


Coup de Grâce

by thatviciousvixen



Series: coup de grâce vignettes [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Creative Accountant!Hux, Hitman Kylo, M/M, Man this fic was a long time coming, Organized Crime, but nothing too crazy, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren comes to Chicago with barely anything to his name other than two-hundred dollars in his pocket and the promise of a new job. His first night in town he meets Hux, a sharp, well-dressed "accountant" with whom he spends one amazing night before disappearing in the morning. At their second meeting they realize they work for the same man. They can't deny their mutual attraction, but falling in love is dangerous in their line of work.</p><p>**Edited to add art accompaniment**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the insanely talented (and crazy sweet) [Noxogoth](http://noxogoth.tumblr.com)!

It’s important to remember that every new city is both a promise and a threat. The promise is easy to find without looking too hard. Cities are glittering ecosystems with their own rules and their own hierarchy, they lure you in and swallow you up and what happens in the belly of the beast is entirely up to you. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the hopes of a new home, the siren song of a new place and new people. Kylo has made that mistake far too many times to count. He’s burned himself down and built himself anew again and again, rearranged his pieces each time to make an entirely different Kylo Ren than before. He’s been so many different people that he’s lost count by now.

And therein lies the threat. You have to be careful not to forget who you were in the first place.

His first stop in Chicago is an easy enough decision to make. The flight was long and turbulent, and he’s never been a fan of being off the ground. He likes the feel of the earth under his feet. He likes feeling centered and steady. He’d rather crawl along the seedy, filthy underbelly of a place than soar above it. He needs to steady himself.

“Where to?” The driver is old and gruff, just the kind of guy you’d expect to be driving a taxi. If it weren’t for the Clean Air Act he’d probably have a cigar clenched between cracked, yellow teeth, smoke billowing out to fill the cab of the car.

Kylo sits back, holding his small bag of belongings close to his body with one hand as he pushes the other through his mess of black hair. “Bar. Wherever.”

The driver looks over his shoulder, eying Kylo warily. “What kind of bar, son?”

“I’m not your son.” Kylo says it slowly, clearly, to erase any hint of comradery the cabbie might be trying to build. “And the kind you drink at.” He’s not sure where else the man thinks he might belong. He’s certainly not one for glittering gay bars or the kinds of places women and men mingle and drink and try to take each other home. He just needs alcohol in his system before he finds a place to sleep for the night.

Apparently that’s answer enough, because the taxi pulls from the curb and slides easily into the heavy evening traffic. Chicago speeds past in a stop-and-go blur, people on the sidewalks passing by at a rapid pace and then suddenly coming into sharp focus as the car moves forward in fits and starts. Vehicles are plentiful this time of night, especially on a Friday. The world is venturing out to drink and dance and fuck and forget about who they are at the office every Monday morning. Kylo just hopes they aren’t going to whatever hole in the wall he ends up at.

Said hole in the wall doesn’t end up being too far from the airport. It’s a small place boxed in on either side by nail salons, and despite the bright neon “OPEN” sign glowing out front there doesn’t seem to be much activity inside. Perfect. When the car pulls over he shoves cash into the driver’s hand, grabs his bag, and slides out.

He finds three people inside, other than himself.

The bartender sits behind the bar wiping down the worn wood, something so cliche and familiar that Kylo immediately feels like he’s been here before. At the far corner of the room a man is playing billiards, practicing his shots as he lines beer bottle after beer bottle up on the nearby table. There are five so far, by Kylo’s count. They must be setting in, because each shot the man takes is sloppy and poorly executed. Pathetic.

Then there’s the man sitting at the bar, a book in his hand and a glass of something amber and neat in front of him. Kylo’s never found anyone to be breathtaking before; it’s an odd sort of sensation and not at all welcome. His eyes hungrily drink in the thin delicacy of the man’s pale wrists, the copper hair that he’s tucked neatly behind his ears. His face is clean shaven and covered in an explosion of freckles like blood spatter along a concrete floor. Chaotic and beautiful and absolutely everywhere. Carefully pressed and presented clothes tell Kylo just what sort of man this is; he’s exact, concise. He cares but he doesn’t want anyone to know it. His navy blue top is tucked into gray slacks, two buttons thoughtfully undone and exposing the hollow dip between his collar bones.

Kylo makes a point to sit as far away from the beautiful man as possible and keep his eyes carefully turned away. He orders a beer. Simple, straightforward, nothing that draws attention to himself. The bartender sets it down silently and leaves him to it, and he settles in for a night of drinking alone and considering the weeks to come.

The job - or position, or whatever he should call it - is pretty straightforward. The old man needs an attack dog. Kylo has worked for Snoke before on little jobs here and there, simple things in cities far from Chicago that needed a firm hand and strong message. That’s his specialty, getting a point across. He’s good at clearing his tracks while leaving a mess. Don’t fuck with Snoke. Snoke will find you, it doesn’t matter how far you run or how well you hide.

But now the old man wants someone closer. Someone he can rely on to keep his business on the offensive, someone to scare competitors away with a simple glance and a few well placed words. So here Kylo is, new to Chicago with no real plan. But he’s got a job and he’s got a beer so that’s good enough for now.

To his left the man playing pool has abandoned his game, propping his stick against the table and staggering away. He now crowds the beautiful ginger at the bar, leering and slurring and trying to force his presence on someone clearly too good for him. Kylo takes a slow sip from his bottle, eyes hidden by his curtain of dark hair as he watches from his end of the bar. A flash of anger lights up within him and he quickly forces it back down.

“Come on, pretty. It’s just you and me and that weird kid over there, we might as well keep each other company right?”

The red-head slowly lifts his eyes, clearly already bored with the interaction. “No thank you. Please leave.” He makes a point of turning back to his book, deliberately turning the page as he takes a sip of whatever is in his glass. His body language makes it very clear he’s not interested. Too bad body language is lost on the stupid.

The oaf looming over him isn’t deterred. He barely seems to notice the beautiful man has spoken at all, too busy leering to hear the words coming out of his mouth. “You’ve got an accent. I like it.”

Kylo realizes with a twinge of self-loathing that he’d been thinking the same thing.

“Come on, red. Come dance with me. One dance,” the clumsy one slurs. It’s then that he commits his first real sin; he reaches out with two meaty hands, grabbing the beautiful one by his hips and pulling him close.

Kylo knows that it would be foolish to intervene. He just got to the city, he needs to spend a few weeks keeping a low profile and learning the lay of the land before he starts making bold strokes and taking swift action. A man in his line of work can’t afford to make waves at all, let alone too soon. But. A strange, dark little voice in the back of his mind tells him to save the lovely one, to come to his rescue from the presumptuous, disgusting brute and win his favor. He wonders if the man would appreciate it or if he would balk at someone thinking he needed saving at all.

And then the oaf reaches down to grope his ass and Kylo stops thinking too much into it. Motherfucker needs to be taught a lesson.

With a sigh he stands, reaching up to pull his hair into a loose bun as he walks the length of the bar to the men at the end. “Back off.”

The oaf looks up, a sneer tugging at his stupid mouth. “What, you jealous? Back off bitch, I saw him first.”

Kylo rolls his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s not really an aggressive stance; he doesn’t need to posture or make himself look bigger to scare off his enemies. Let them come swinging, he loves when they throw the first punch. “Leave. Go. Last chance.”

The jackass with the boundary issues merely laughs, a sloppy thing as the beer loosens his tongue. Instead of responding to Kylo he turns to the pretty one, pawing at him despite how the man struggles to get out of his arms.

So much for keeping a low profile.

There isn’t much nearby to use as a weapon. The barstools are bolted down to the ground, and the bartender seemingly has so little to do that he’s cleaned up all the bottles and glasses that may have accumulated over the course of the night. He spies the half-empty glass of whatever the pretty one is drinking. Kylo makes a mental promise to buy him another as he grabs the glass and slams it hard into the side of the man’s head.

The pay-off is immediate. As glass splinters in a sparkling shower the stupid one pushes the lovely one away, sending him crashing into the bar and sliding down to the floor. The oaf cries out and clutches his head for a short moment before rounding on Kylo. The beer has him uncoordinated and sloppy, not that Kylo would let him land a punch if he were sober. As a large fist aims for his face Kylo catches it easily with his right hand. He brings his left fist up, connecting with the man’s cheek with a sick, satisfyingly wet sound. Blood spurts out in a pretty arc followed what can only be three of his teeth.

“You prick,” the man chokes, stumbling and swaying. “You fucking prick.”

Just as Kylo lifts his hand to deliver another blow he’s grabbed by two elegant yet strong hands on his bicep. “Enough,” the pretty one snaps, tugging him away. “You hit him again and the cops will be here in no time.”

Kylo is so stunned at the sudden intervention that he follows without protest, letting the man lead him into the cool night air. He realizes vaguely that his hand is bleeding - he must have cut himself when he broke the glass against the idiot’s head. “Where are we going?” He looks up to see the bartender steadfastly paying them no mind, still wiping down the bar as if a man didn’t lose teeth right in front of him.

The pretty one looks incredibly put out, like Kylo is a stray dog he has no choice but to care for. “Away.” A slim arm lifts, hailing a taxi and yanking the door open once one slows for them. He drags Kylo inside, giving the driver an address before turning back. “That was fairly stupid,” he says pointedly, reaching forward to take Kylo’s bleeding hand. He examines it closely, turning it this way and that. “Doesn’t look like you hit anything important.”

Kylo is too busy staring at his face to care. “What’s your name?”

Cold green eyes flash up, searching his face before looking back down to his hand. “You can call me Hux. Give me your sweater.”

Inexplicably, Kylo obeys without thinking. He shrugs out of his outer layer and passes it over. Hux takes it and wraps it firmly around Kylo’s hand, pressing the dark fabric to the bleeding gash across his palm. “Is that a nickname? Or your last name?”

Hux sighs, irritated by the question. “Why, are you writing an article? It’s Hux. Now tell me yours.”

He’s silent for a moment, oddly warmed by Hux’s churlishness. “Kylo.”

“Kylo,” Hux repeats, giving a small nod. “Well, Kylo. You’re going to need stitches, and since I apparently owe you I’ll do them myself. No hospitals necessary.” He looks back up, arching a pale eyebrow. “I assume you’re not the sort of man who has patience for hospitals.”

“I’d rather bleed to death than go to a hospital,’ Kylo admits. “Why do you know how to do stitches?”

Hux looks up once again with vague irritation. “Why do you ask so many questions?”

That shuts Kylo up. He knows better than to talk too much, and here he is breaking the cardinal rule. It’s difficult. Hux is confident and beautiful and sitting so very close, clutching Kylo’s hand to his own chest as he holds pressure to stem the flow of blood. His cologne is soft, clean and fresh like the ocean at night and cut through by the coppery tang of an open wound. Kylo spends so much of his life in pointed silence but one pretty face and suddenly he can’t shut up. He mentally chastises himself, disappointed in his sudden lack of a filter..

They pull up to the curb, Kylo leaning into the window to see where they are. His stomach flips. “This is where you live?”

He didn’t notice as the cab left the slums behind and pulled into the bustling heart of downtown Chicago. The building rising before them is a modern and upscale, the kind with a door man and a mirrored facade that reflects all of the city back onto itself. Kylo’s the kind of person who sleeps on park benches; this is a little overwhelming. It makes sense though, with the way Hux dresses and speaks and carries himself. Kylo can’t really imagine him living anywhere else.

“This is where I live,” Hux confirms, getting out and heading for the door. “Come.” Kylo doesn’t exactly like being given commands, but he really has no other choice but to follow.

They go in and up, taking an elevator to a dizzying floor number before Hux leads him down the hall and to his door. He slides the key into the lock, efficient and elegant in every move and gesture. Kylo finds it nearly impossible to take his eyes away. “Do you live by yourself?” he finds himself asking, the words leaving his tongue before he can choke them back.

Hux pauses with his hand on the door, shooting Kylo a glance out of the corner of his eyes. “No, I live here with my girlfriend.”

The knowledge comes as a disappointment. “Oh.”

This earns him another Look, a disbelieving glance as Hux pushes the door open and walks inside. “I’m not serious.”

Kylo doesn’t bother responding, too busy taking in his new surroundings. The apartment is impressive. Modern, carefully decorated, so tidy that it could be mistaken for a hotel room waiting for its next inhabitants. They walk into a small foyer where Hux pauses to remove his shoes, gesturing for Kylo to do the same. He doesn’t really get it as the floors are all hardwood, but he’s specifically avoiding asking anymore questions. To the right of the foyer is a small kitchen with polished mahogany countertops and stainless steel appliances, and a surprising number of gadgets and utensils. He hadn’t pegged Hux as the type to cook. Further beyond the kitchen is the living room, cozy but impersonal. There’s a flat screen TV on one wall, a large leather couch against the other. The tables are all glass and polished to a seemingly impossible shine. Kylo makes a mental note of the fact that there don’t seem to be any family photos around.

“Bathroom is this way,” Hux says, leading him along. The foyer extends into a hallway with a door on each side and one at the end. They go through the far door, entering a bathroom covered in black marble and more mirrors than anyone could possibly ever need.

Kylo carefully unwraps the sweater from around his hand, examining the wound. It doesn’t look good. The glass sliced him neatly through, he can see what he thinks might be tendons peeking out from under his skin. Blood seeps out sluggishly and drips to the floor with soft little taps against the tile. “You’ve...done stitches before?”

Hux merely nods, opening the cabinet under the sink and retrieving a small box. He sets it on the counter before thoroughly washing his hands. “I don’t have anything to give you for pain.”

This is far from a problem. “I’ll be fine.” As Hux gathers the necessary items Kylo continues to look around, trying to learn what he can about the mystery standing beside him. The bathroom is nothing if not extravagant. At the wall farthest from the door is a giant bathtub big enough for two people, the kind that isn’t attached to a shower. The shower itself is enclosed seamlessly in glass, and from the looks of it the showerhead is straight above instead of attached to the wall. It’s all polished, gleaming.

He barely looks down at the first prick of a suture being threaded into his skin. “What do you do?”

“Again with the questions.” Kylo looks over in time to see Hux hiding a smile. “I’m an accountant. Why are you in Chicago?”

“How do you know I don’t live here?”

Hux looks up, green eyes sure. “I know.”

Kylo snorts out a breath, looking down to watch Hux stitch his wound. He’s got steady hands and no fear of blood, and it seems easy enough for him to carry on a conversation as he works. Once again Kylo can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this. “I’m here for work. New job.” He leaves it there. He’s never been good at lying, he’d rather not say anything at all.

They fall into a comfortable silence as Hux finishes the task, three even stitches lined up on Kylo’s palm. The wound is washed carefully before being wrapped in soft white gauze, and then the job is done.

“I suspect you’ll live,” Hux says, looking up at Kylo once his hands are washed. They’re close, dangerously close. Kylo can’t help but stare at Hux’s soft blond eyelashes, the way they flutter against his cheeks every time he blinks. “Now I have a question for you, Kylo.”

He’s too dazed to speak. They’re too close. “Mm?”

His heart speeds up in his chest as Hux lifts a slim arm, wrapping it around Kylo’s waist. His hand strokes across the small of Kylo’s back and lower, lower, along the curve of his ass...and into his back pocket. Hux pulls his arm back, smirking as he holds up the straight razor Kylo keeps tucked away. “What’s this for?”

Kylo looks up, caught by those icy-green eyes once more. “Work.” He leans in, licking his lips and grinning as Hux ever-so-slightly tips his chin up.

“Are you a barber?” Hux asks with a knowing grin, arching an eyebrow. He sets the razor on the table, bringing his hand up and reaching around to tug the elastic from Kylo’s hair. Black hair falls around his face, partially obscuring his vision.

“Are you really an accountant?” He reaches his own arm around, under the careful tailoring of Hux’s vest and to his waistband, where he retrieves the gun that’s been hidden there all night.

Hux laughs as Kylo sets the gun next to his razor. “Clever boy.”

Their mouths meet like a fist to the jaw, violent and desperate and rough. Hux kisses like a threat; there’s no sweetness in him, no desire to explore Kylo’s mouth and learn the taste of him as hands gently caress trembling skin. No, his kiss is all teeth and tongue and sucking at swollen lips, hands fisting at the front of Kylo’s black t-shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. Kylo’s hands grip tight at slim hips, yanking their bodies together as he tilts his head to kiss along Hux’s jaw.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asks, lifting the slimmer man and giving an appreciative groan as Hux wraps his legs around Kylo’s waist.

“Back through the living room, far door,” Hux pants. He laughs as Kylo carries him through the apartment, finding his way easily enough. When they get to the bedroom he doesn’t bother flicking on the lights. There’s a huge window looking out over the city, and between the moon and Chicago itself there’s plenty of illumination between them. Hux’s pale skin turns a glowing gold as a sign nearby flashes through, turning his hair a bright, bloody red. He lays him out on the bed, admiring the living artwork.

Kylo leans down, attaching his lips to Hux’s neck and sucking gently. “You’re beautiful,” he hums, large hands coming up to peel Hux out of his fancy clothing. He tries to be as careful as possible despite his mounting impatience; these clothes look like they cost more than his first car. As each layer is peeled away he drops it carefully over the side of the bed, eyes drinking in every new inch of naked skin. “Jesus…”

Hux stretches his arms out over his head, arching his back ever so slightly. He’s clearly showing off and Kylo fucking loves it. “Care to join me down here?”

 

 

“You better fucking believe it,” Kylo says eagerly, yanking his jacket and sweater off and tossing them across the room. He manages to pull his shirt over his head without tearing it in his impatience, and once his jeans are gone he’s finally, blessedly naked. One elegant hand beckons him close and he follows without another thought. Soon they’re both lying on the bed, clinging and kissing and touching whatever their desperate hands can reach.

“You’re beautiful,” Kylo breathes, ducking his head to kiss along the line of his jaw. He nuzzles into the tender spot where Hux’s neck curves into his shoulder, kissing before gently nipping at the thin skin he finds there.

Hux breathes out his delight, tangling his fingers in Kylo’s hair. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he murmurs, green eyes a strange sort of flint-gray in the dim light. There’s something unreal about him. It doesn’t feel right that someone like Kylo, as poor and twisted and broken as he is, should be able to touch something so delicate and perfect. He makes a note to be gentle, to not leave the usual disaster in his wake. Not that he knows if he _could_ break Hux, even if he tried.

They kiss for the sake of kissing, exploring each other’s skin with no real rush or urgency. For two such as them the night is still young. Kylo is happy enough to lean over Hux, his cock thick and hard where it rests against his thigh, rubbing against him with no real purpose except to touch. He’s got his own hand on Hux’s length, doing nothing more than teasing as they mouth and nip and suck at whatever skin is closest.

Finally Hux pulls back, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Kylo’s ear. “Fuck me?” he murmurs, voice a soft prayer in the quiet surrounding them. Kylo nods like it’s the most important thing he’s been entrusted with. He wonders when things shifted. Their kisses had been violent, their night bathed in blood, when had they become...this? His heart gives a pitiful flutter in his chest that he’s careful to ignore.

“Lube?” he asks, brushing his thumb over a nipple and smirking as Hux groans. The noise is beautiful, so much so that he has to lean down and repeat the motion with his tongue.

“Nightstand,” Hux pants, arching into the sensation. “Top drawer, there are condoms if you don’t have one.” He glances down, raising an eyebrow. “Though I don’t know if they’ll fit,” he adds with a hungry look.

Kylo laughs breathlessly, grabbing the lube before reaching over the side of the bed for his jeans. He fishes through his pockets until he has his wallet, grabbing a black tinfoil packet from inside. Hux simply laughs, hooking his heel over Kylo’s hip and trying to draw him closer.

“I like a man who’s prepared,” he near-purrs, biting his lip. When Kylo returns he pulls him down for a heated kiss, licking into his mouth with determination as he reaches down to tease the tip of his cock. “You’re so big,” he breathes, eyes heavy lidded. “Gonna make me take it all?”

Kylo looks down at him with wild eyes, hair hanging around his face and adding to his air of desperation. “Fuck yeah I am,” he pants, leaning in to suck a mark against the center of Hux’s chest. He snaps open the bottle of lube, slicking his fingers liberally. “Like this?”

With a nod and a smirk Hux settles onto his back, bracing his feet on the bed and parting his thighs. “Just like this.” It’s a good look. His skin is flushed and red in places Kylo didn’t know people could blush, cock hard and lovely against his stomach. One hand runs teasingly across his chest as the other slides across the soft sheets beneath him. Kylo is fairly sure he’ll remember that image for as long as he lives. The soft affectionate look on the face of a total stranger, the way the lights filter in through impossibly large windows to dapple their skin in color. It feels like a dream.

It’s easy enough to prep Hux - they’re both desperate for it. Two fingers slide in easily and then three, Kylo being particularly careful to stretch and press and stroke the whole time. As he fingers Hux he leans down to take his length in his mouth, sucking firmly and relishing in every sound Hux makes. It’s good, too good. He doesn’t deserve this but that won’t stop him from taking it.

“Come on, get on with it,” Hux groans, thrusting up into the warm, wet heat of Kylo’s mouth. “Fuck, I’m ready, fuck me…”

Kylo doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s good at following instructions. He tears the condom wrapper open and rolls it on, hungrily drinking in the way Hux’s eyes track his hands the entire way down. “You want it?” he rasps, voice low and broken in his chest. He’s usually not great at dirty talk, but for some reason he can’t seem to shut up around Hux.

“Fuck yeah I want it,” is the breathless response he gets. “You gonna give it to me?”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Kylo growls. It’s not exactly Chaucer but judging by the way Hux whines and arches it’s more than enough. He grabs Hux’s legs, swinging his ankles over his own broad shoulders. Taking his cock in hand, he rubs the head teasingly over that slick, tight entrance. “Ready?”

Hux bites his lip hard, rolling his hips up. “Quit fucking teasing, of course I’m ready.”

Kylo can’t help but laugh as he starts to press in. From the first slow intrusion as the head of his cock pushes in he knows he’s got to be careful, Hux is impossibly tight and Kylo isn’t small. Not even close. He sets his teeth into his lower lip as concentration knits his eyebrows, pulling out ever-so-slightly before easing in a bit deeper than before. Hux looks lost. His eyes are dazed and wide as they stare up at Kylo, lips parted, breath coming in desperate gasps. Kylo takes his length in hand, teasing and stroking to take the edge off of the initial stretch.

“You alright?” he manages to choke out, licking his lips.

Hux swallows hard, giving a brief nod. “Y-yes. Fuck don’t stop, I like…”

“Mm?” Kylo leans down, kissing him firmly before sucking at his already swollen lips. Just one more push, another rigid inch, and he’s buried deep in the tight heat of Hux’s ass. “What do you like?” he breathes, soft and dangerous between them.

Golden eyelashes flutter for a moment against pink cheeks before Hux opens his eyes and fixes Kylo with his gaze. “I like it rough.”

Oh. Oh yeah. Kylo can do rough. With that permission given he moves his grip to Hux’s hips, hands impossible large against his slim waist. His fingers almost touch around his back as he lifts Hux’s ass off of the bed, drawing out part way before slamming back in. For a moment the wound on his hand sings in pain but he can’t be bothered to care. Hux immediately cries out in his pleasure as his fingers grip and pull at the bedsheets. His legs, still hooked over Kylo’s shoulders, try to pull him even closer as he gives another hard thrust.

“Like that?” he hisses, sucking marks along the column of Hux’s throat. “S’that how hard you want it?”

For a moment Hux can only moan, sliding his hand along his flat stomach before gripping his cock. He strokes firmly, finding the rhythm of Kylo’s hips and following along. “You’re a filthy fucking thing, aren’t you?” The hand not currently working his dick finds its way into Kylo’s hair, dragging him down so they can once more devour each other’s mouths. Kylo has him nearly bent in half with the force of his thrusts; if Hux’s headboard weren’t attached to the wall it would be slamming against it.

“You like that I’m fucking dirty?” Kylo growls against his lips, fingers digging into pale skin hard enough that there will be livid purple marks come the morning. Good, let Hux keep that reminder of him. Kylo can feel his control over himself starting to wear thin, his stomach tight and thighs tense with every thrust. “Gonna come for me, pretty boy?”

Hux whines, honest-to-god _whines_ , speeding up his strokes as he inches closer and closer to the edge. He cries out as Kylo pushes his thighs to his chest and spreads them apart, feeling pinned by the overwhelming size of his cock. “Oh my God, yes, _yes_ ,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut. He gives one more broken shout before he comes, spilling thick and messy into his own hand.

Watching Hux fall apart is all it takes for Kylo to follow him over the edge. He gives two more hard thrusts before shooting into the condom, body curving over the one below as he hisses and groans Hux’s name. For a moment he sways, barely able to hold himself up as the force of his orgasm leaves him weak. Gentle hands lift to his face, trembling as they push his hair back.

“Sh, it’s alright, I’ve got you,” Hux murmurs, thumb stroking over Kylo’s lips. With Hux’s blessing Kylo slumps down on top of him, just barely managing to pull out. He lays there for a solid five minutes letting himself be petted and soothed before he’s able to get up and remove the condom. Once it’s gone he climbs back into bed and curls around Hux.

“I’ll go soon,” he slurs, pulling him close.

Hux huffs a soft breath, tucking himself against Kylo’s chest and tipping his head up for a lazy kiss. “Go in the morning, it’s fine,” he murmurs. Weariness is edging into his voice. Kylo can see the way his eyelids fight to open again every time they flutter shut, can feel the satisfaction seeping from his skin. He leans in for another kiss before nodding.

“Alright. I will.” With a deep breath he tugs Hux closer, resting his chin on top of the soft, fine hair that’s come undone since the night began. He figures it’ll be a while until he can relax and fall asleep. He’s out within three minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

Kylo is a pro at sneaking out of tight spots in the middle of the night - it’s part of why he’s so good at what he does. Fleet footed and nimble, he’s adept at moving without making noise. For a man of his size and stature he’s particularly talented at not being seen. It’s useful when you have to sneak out of an apartment the morning after fucking its owner.

He wakes up first - thankfully - to Hux sleeping easily beside him. It’s almost staggering how stupid they both are. Both started the night armed, both had relinquished their weapons in an odd sort of foreplay. His razor still sits on the bathroom counter - that’s his first stop. He slides out of bed, carefully collecting his trail of clothing as he makes his way into the bathroom. There it is, still sitting next to Hux’s gun. He lifts it carefully, sliding it into his back pocket once he’s pulled his clothes on. From there all he has to do is slip his shoes on and make his way to the door.

There’s an eerie calm settled on the building as he makes his way to the stairwell and starts his descent. He checks his watch; 4 AM. That explains the stillness of the world around him. He still has five hours before he has to go meet his new boss and no idea what to do in the meantime. If he were back in California he’d go to the beach, dig his toes into the sand and watch the waves roll in. He’s always liked the ocean. It’s the only thing that makes him feel small. He used to sit for hours and listen to the crash of the surf, letting the immenseness was over him, as unimportant as one of the billions of grains of sand on the beach. He’s always longed to be unnoticeable.

As he walks outside he’s reminded that Chicago is no California. Even at this early hour there’s enough cars on the street to be called “traffic,” and the sickly smell of smog and pollution is overwhelming. He makes a face, shoving his hands into his pockets as he starts walking. It’s crisp and cold for October, another thing he’ll have to get used to. He’s thankful for the fact that he’s always dressed in layers; a black t-shirt, a gray hoodie over that, a black leather jacket over that. The holes in his jeans don’t really help but he’ll live. As he navigates the streets he pulls his hood up, zipping his sweater against the wind.

Fifteen stories above him Hux is still asleep in a bed too large for such a small person. Kylo sighs as he lets himself think back to the night before, to the careful way Hux stitched his hand, the abandon with which they’d crashed together and broken apart. Kylo’s been reckless plenty of times before; he’s overly emotional, prone to fits and outbursts and plenty of stupid mistakes. He can admit his own shortcomings. The difference is that most of his mistakes end in blood and violence and a hasty getaway. Never before has such a fit of pique begun in blood and ended in something else altogether.

Kylo sighs, shaking his head hard to clear his thoughts. He needs to pull himself together. He has permanent employment now, it won’t do to let himself get caught up like this. Hux is just a footnote in his own history now, time to move on.

His wandering brings him to what looks like a cross between a shopping mall and a carnival, a strange pier that extends out over the water. It’s covered in thousands of bright lights that illuminate the night around it despite all of the attractions being closed down. In the distance he sees a ferris wheel, the bucket seats swaying softly in the light wind that ruffles his hair and chills his skin not covered by layers. Just beyond the pier Lake Michigan is an inky black mirror, reflecting the light and life back up at itself without judgement.

“Hey, got a cigarette man?”

Kylo heard the man approaching before he actually spoke, but he’s been too caught up in his quiet contemplation to pay him any real mind. Now he’s forced to look over his shoulder and take the interloper at face value.

He’s small, thin, but from the way he carries himself Kylo can tell he’s packing a decent amount of muscle into his lithe body. His skin is pale, but not pale like Hux’s. Hux has skin as soft and pretty white as the moon; this jackass just looks pasty and sick. He’s wearing jeans and a wife beater despite the chill in the air, and somewhere in the depth of his pockets Kylo can see the outline of what appears to be knuckledusters.

He sighs, turning back to the pier. “No.”

The man gives a little “tsk,” circling around behind Kylo to stand on his other side. They’re the only ones on the street, the audaciousness of the pier behind them making it all seem surreal. “You’re not very polite,” he sneers. “I’m gonna ask you one more time, got a cigarette?”

Somewhere, low at the base of his spine, something mean starts to wake up in Kylo. He narrows his eyes as he turns to face the man. “If you know what’s good for you? Fuck off.”

That earns him a laugh, a derisive sound as the weasel of a man steps into his space. “You don’t have manners, do you?” he sneers. “Maybe I should teach you some manners.”

Problem is, Kylo knows a petty thief when he sees one. He knows when some poor fool is about to try to mug him, so he’s been keenly aware of the entire interaction from the moment the man approached. He sees as he reaches into his back pocket, and as the man swings the knife around Kylo catches his arm by the wrist. With one sharp move he hears the man’s wrist snap, wrenched to the side at a sickening angle and squeezed tight in Kylo’s firm grasp. The man shrieks and tries to get away but it’s too late. That evil, mean thing that lives inside Kylo is awake.

“Ask me to let you go,” Kylo says, giving a sick sort of grin. He barks out a laugh as the man does just that, simpering and pathetic. Instead of giving into the request, taking pity, he grinds the broken bones of his wrist tight under his fingers. “Should have left me alone,” he snarls, bringing his right fist up hard across the thug’s jaw. There’s another snap and the thick, dull sound of meat being struck. The man slumps down, falling uselessly to the ground.

“Fucking idiot,” Kylo snarls. He glances around, checking for witnesses before stepping over the unconscious body and heading for a different part of town.

-

He has enough time before his meeting to wash up and make himself at least a little bit presentable. There’s a Starbucks not too far from the place he’s heading to, ducking in for coffee seems like a good idea and it gives him an excuse to slip into the bathroom to freshen up without the staff hassling him. He brushes his teeth and washes his face with cold water, and as an afterthought he attempts to fix his hair. It’s a lost cause, though.

The girl behind the counter smiles as he walks out. She’s small and perky and wholly annoying, humming to herself as she foams milk and grinds beans and fetches baked goods for people. There’s another staff member working, a short man with messy brown curls, but he’s too busy flirting with a man at the end of the bar to pay him any mind.

“Interview?” she asks, wiping down the counter.

Kylo merely shoots her a glance before walking out. He doesn’t understand why people are so eager to ask after things that aren’t their damn business, the world would be a better place if people didn’t talk so much. He checks his watch. Fifteen minutes. He decides it’s worth spending his last bit of cash on a taxi, hailing one over and giving the man behind the wheel the address he’s heading towards. From there it’s a short trip to the restaurant, some little family owned place next to a laundromat that he wouldn’t have looked twice at if he weren’t looking for it specifically.

As the taxi drives off he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his mop of black hair. This is it. Pushing the door open and stepping inside, he makes his way to the host.

“Hi, I’m looking for a Mr. Snoke?” he mutters, eyes cast down to the floor.

The man behind the counter nods, pulling out two menus. “Ah, yes. Mr. Snoke asked me to tell you he’s running late, but he’d like for you to enjoy a meal on him. He’ll be along soon to join you.” Kylo is led to a small table in the back corner of the restaurant, tucking himself into the chair against the wall. He likes having a vantage point.

For a moment he thinks about skipping breakfast, refusing to let his new boss pay for him. He realizes that it might be part of the test, though. Obedience. He flips through the menu before ordering a simple bacon and eggs plate, setting the menu to the side and allowing himself a moment to relax.

The restaurant is cozy for a business meeting. It’s nothing too fancy, nothing too out of the ordinary. A long counter runs along the back wall with high stools for patrons, an array of baked goods set out under glass domes to tantalize anyone who sits too near. Booths line the walls and tables fill the center of the floor. All around the walls are framed portraits of old Hollywood icons; Rita Hayworth, Greta Garbo, Lucy and Marilyn and Audrey and everyone else you’d expect to see on diner walls.

For the moment he’s the only one there. It takes all of ten minutes for his food to be brought out, and another five for him to scarf it all down and leave an empty plate in his wake. It’s been too long since he’s eaten properly, the food feels like it sticks to his ribs and somehow manages to leave space for more. Instead he orders another coffee and nurses it while he waits. And waits. And waits.

Nearly an hour later an old man makes his way into the restaurant.

Snoke isn’t what Kylo expected. He likes to keep to the outskirts of his chosen business, but he’s seen enough to know that organized crime is a world of men in slick suits with greased hair and highly polished shoes. What he gets instead is an old man in a cardigan shuffling over on his cane. Scars run along the left side of his face. They look flat and pale and shiny, like the kind left in the wake of burns or acid. It twists Snoke’s mouth to the left, giving him a permanently pointed look.

Kylo stands, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Mr. Snoke.”

“Sit, sit.” Snoke waves a thin hand towards Kylo, urging him back into his seat as he himself lowers into a chair. “Sorry to keep you waiting my boy, sometimes our days don’t start the way we’d intended.”

Kylo is no good at kowtowing to people, not even the ones that intend to write his checks. He just never learned how to be deferential. Instead he goes for honesty, because at the very least he can tell the truth. “Well, I don’t really have anywhere to be. You’re more important than I am.”

Snoke’s twisted features curl into a smile. “Good answer, my boy. Did you eat?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kylo says with a small nod.

With a dry chuckle Snoke leans back in his chair, beckoning the waiter over. He orders a water and a bagel; Kylo is sure he could use something more substantial, but he’s not in Chicago to think. He folds his hands in his lap, waiting patiently for his Snoke to speak.

“Tell me boy,” Snoke says after a thoughtful pause, “do you understand the terms of this position? What I’m hiring you to do? You’ll forgive me if I don’t describe it again out loud in too public of a setting.”

Kylo nods. “I understand, sir.” Snoke was clear enough the last time they spoke over the phone. Kylo will be given his orders through a third party so Snoke himself can’t be implicated if things go wrong. Jobs are paid for after their completion, and when Kylo isn’t being sent on specific tasks he’s to run errands, act as Snoke’s personal protection; just be useful in general. It’s not very glamorous but the pay is damn near insane.

“I thought you would, you’re a clever one aren’t you?” Snoke takes up his bagel, taking a small bite before setting it back down. He chews and swallows and dabs at his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “You were suggested to me by a very close personal friend, a man who’s worked with me for years. He worked in law enforcement back in California and is...familiar with your work.” Kylo is eager to know who this man is but carefully keeps his mouth shut as Snoke continues speaking. “Your background in the Marines, your bearing, your natural talent...it all adds up to exactly the man I need for this job.”

When he pauses Kylo takes the opportunity to speak. He’s not much for gratitude or showing deference, but he manages for the sake of money in his pocket and the future potential of an actual regular place to sleep at night. He’s spent way too long on park benches. “I appreciate the opportunity sir, and I won’t let you down.”

The smile that Snoke offers him is unsettling. “Very good, my boy. That being said, how would you like to start today?”

Well that’s a surprise.

It’s not that Kylo has a problem with short notice - violence is violence no matter how much time you have to prepare for it. He’s well beyond needing to emotionally prepare himself before doing unspeakable things. It’s all just a part of who he is. The problem is that this feels like a test, and tests make him nervous.

Oh well. He tilts his jaw up, looking Snoke dead in the eye. “Just tell me where you need me.”

The old man clasps his hands in his lap, giving a small nod and a satisfied smile. “Very good. There’s a car waiting outside at the curb. My assistant will take you to the location and tell you everything you need to know.” He leans forward, covering Kylo’s hand with his own. His skin is freezing cold and paper thin. “It’s good to have you on board, my boy. There aren’t enough people in the world who understand that sometimes the harder path must be taken, and even less that are willing to dirty their hands to do it.” He withdraws and sips his coffee. “I’ll be in touch.”

Kylo knows a dismissal when he hears it. With a polite “thank you” he picks up his small bag of belongings and leaves Snoke to his business in the tiny restaurant. As he walks by people shoot curious glances his way; he’s careful to ignore it, careful to keep his eyes fixed on the ground. Only when he sees himself out does he let his gaze move up.

There’s a shiny black Bentley parked on the curb waiting for Kylo’s arrival. He wonders if this has been planned out from the start. Was Snoke always going to offer him this challenge within ten minutes of meeting him? He reminds himself slowly and carefully that it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except his swift obedience and his ability to impress the man who’s going to be signing his checks.

It’s been a long few years of being a homeless, directionless waste. Now he has direction, even if he’s not the one choosing it.

Scraping his teeth over his bottom lip, he shoves his hands into his pockets and glances over the car. It’s brand new, it has to be. There isn’t a speck of dirt to be found and the engine purrs like a happy animal. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the driver scrolling absently through his phone. He steels himself and prepares to play polite as he meets someone new.

“You’re...oh.”

It’s Hux. In the sun his hair is silken flame, styled neatly back though one disobedient lock falls in front of his forehead. A million freckles are visible in the daylight, as is a dark bruise on his neck that he’s clearly trying to hide under a stiff collar. Green eyes flicker up, widening in surprise.

“Oh,” he breathes, nearly dropping his phone. “Oh shit.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Kylo’s first instinct is to grab Hux by the lapels of his stupid fancy suit and slam him against the hood of his car. He balls his hands into fists as he only just manages to resist the urge, muscles so tight that his nails dig into his palms leaving deep indentations in his skin. If it weren’t for Snoke sitting inside he isn’t sure what he’d do. Instead he grits his teeth, glaring down the man before him.

“So what, you saw me at the bar last night and figured you’d fuck with me? Was that some sort of sick test?” he hisses, taking a menacing step forward.

Hux doesn’t flinch, clearly not impressed with the posturing. He rolls his eyes, dropping the cigarette in his hand and stubbing it out with the toe of a shiny black shoe. “Get in the car. We’re not having this conversation in the middle of the damn street.” His accent is clipped and cold, eyes steel as he stares Kylo down from mere feet away. He opens the door to the Bentley, slipping into the driver’s seat. Kylo doesn’t have much choice but to follow. He walks to the other side, mindful of cars passing by as he climbs into his seat. 

“Lock your door,” Hux says pointedly, nodding towards the mechanism. Once Kylo obeys he pulls away from the curb, cutting smoothly into traffic with the practiced ease of someone used to driving in the city. He draws in a deep breath, hands tight on the steering wheel. “How did you know who I was?”

“What?”

He makes an irritated sound, glancing quickly at Kylo from the corner of his eye before directing his gaze back to the road. “Don’t play stupid,” he snaps. “Did Snoke mention my name? Did he send you a photo of me? How did you know who I was?”

Kylo shoots him a look of pure disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about? I came here with a name and a time and place to meet him, do you think this was some complicated in-job where I was paid to pull a honeytrap?” He swallows hard, running his fingers through his mess of black hair as he looks forward. “This is so fucked.”

“You’re not wrong,” Hux snaps, clearly agitated. “This is how this is going to go; we will not mention this to Snoke. Believe me when I tell you that he doesn’t like fraternization among the ranks, he’s got a very particular opinion on loyalty and where it ought to lie. Am I understood?” When Kylo is silent he risks a glance over, eyes flashing with controlled rage. “Do. You. Understand.”

Despite Hux’s cold tone and dismissal of their night together Kylo can’t help but feel another surge of attraction drawing him in. All he can see when he glances over is the careful way Hux had stitched his hand, the soft glances and desperate pleas falling from his lips as they tangled in bed together. His mind is full of images of city lights dancing across pale skin, the way he had wanted to pull Hux into his arms and never let him go. It doesn’t make sense. Kylo isn’t a sentimental man, and certainly not towards people he’s only just met. 

Two fingers snap in front of his face. Hux is flushed high into his cheeks, eyes narrow as he watches the road. “Kylo. I need you to tell me that you won’t say a word. It won’t end well for either of us.”

Kylo snaps out of his stupor, folding his arms as he considers the request. “So what, we’re going to pretend we never met before this morning?”

“Exactly,” Hux breathes, voice almost a sigh as Kylo shows some sort of understanding. “We’ll go on as simple work acquaintances and Snoke will be none the wiser.”

The statement settles on Kylo like a dark cloud. He scowls, turning to his window as he watches the city roll past. Hux seems so sure of it all, so calm in the face of their unexpected reunion. “And what if I said I don’t want to forget about last night? What if I don’t want to pretend it never happened?”

“Oh dear Lord. It was a one night stand, what on earth is there to remember?”

Kylo turns quickly, eyes flashing. “Plenty. You can’t tell me it wasn’t something more than a quick fuck. There’s something between us. You felt it when you were fixing my hand and you feel it now.”

Hux heaves a deep sigh, briefly pressing his knuckles to his lips as he tries to maintain composure. When he lowers his hand he returns it to the steering wheel. His voice is low and calm as he speaks, as if talking to a child. “Kylo. We met at a bar under violent circumstances. You played the white knight and laid out a man who was no real threat to me, and while I do appreciate your willingness to help I believe your perception of me as some damsel is playing into your emotional state. We had sex. It was very good sex. Fantastic sex, even. But after we fucked we went to sleep and in the morning you were gone and that was supposed to be it.” He shakes his head, biting his lip. “If it weren’t for this odd coincidence we’d never see each other again. You can’t let yourself believe that this is some love at first sight scenario.”

As they slide onto the highway Kylo swallows around a lump in his throat, drumming his fingertips against his armrest. 

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m just saying there’s something there. That maybe this coincidence is supposed to mean something. I don’t believe that you don’t feel it too.”

Hux falls into a stubborn silence, adamantly refusing to carry on the conversation any further. Even when Kylo speaks up every now and then with more passionate conviction he steadfastly ignores it, face impassive and posture tight. Kylo sighs and lets his eyes turn from the road. The city has melted away, clusters of houses sliding past as they drive on. Miles and miles stretch between them and the city before Hux finally pulls onto an exit ramp, winding through a maze of neighborhoods that look more and more expensive as they go. 

Finally, Kylo changes the subject. “Who’s my mark?”

Hux seems to deem the question worthy of an answer. “An old employee of Snoke’s. The man who held my position before I was hired on.” He glances over his shoulder, checking his blind spot before switching lanes. Hux drives carefully, as precise as everything else he does. It’s a smart tactic. In their line of work they have to be careful not to attract unwanted attention, especially going to do what they’re going to do.

“Why am I being sent? What did he do that pissed Snoke off so much that he wants him dead?”

“Stole from him,” Hux says with a dark laugh. “It’s funny. Snoke doesn’t really care about money. He’s got plenty of money, and he’s quite generous in sharing the wealth with the people who work for him. So I can guarantee this fellow was getting his fair share of the profits. Still, he saw it necessary to start funneling funds into an offshore account. Small sums, bit by bit, over a great period of time so no one ever really noticed. Thing is, Snoke notices everything. Nothing makes it past him, believe me.”

Kylo nods, fidgeting and tugging at the sleeve of his sweater. “How long ago did Snoke find out?”

A thoughtful hum is his only response as Hux tries to recall. “Three years, perhaps?”

Three years. Quite the gap. “Why the wait?”

“It sends quite the message, don’t you think? He’s probably just stopped looking over his shoulder, checking the dark corners of his house every night waiting for the other foot to fall. He thinks he’s made it out with his money and his life. I’m sure plenty of other people think the same thing, are wondering why Snoke has gone soft on someone who’s disrespected him.”

Realization dawns. “He let him lull into a false sense of security, and now he’s going to send a message. That you can never stop looking over your shoulder, that he never forgets and he doesn’t forgive.”

Hux smirks. “Very good, Kylo. There’s hope for you yet.”

The neighborhood they’ve pulled into is quite the grand affair. Each house - estate, more like - sits on what seems to be a full acre of land. High hedges and stone walls cut each lawn off from that of its neighbor, allowing an excellent cover as they pull into a long driveway that leads to the back of their target’s home. “What’s his name?” Kylo asks, leaning forward to get a better look at the house as Hux puts the car into park. “Are there any alarms?”

The question earns him an arched eyebrow. “You want to know? The more information you have the more you have to lie about if ever questioned. And yes, but the systems have already been disabled.”

Kylo shrugs. “Look I figure at some point the cops will get ahold of me and I won’t be able to talk myself out. I like to know.” 

Hux nods. “William Scott. His wife is out of town visiting family, so he’ll be alone in there. You’ll have plenty of time to do what you need to do. Clean up after yourself please, I don’t need this traced back to us in any way. We’ve got a person on the inside when we get in trouble but I like to use her as little as possible.”

Kylo makes a face. “Half of the point is the mess you leave behind.”

“Not when I’m the one driving you.”

With a nod he unbuckles, looking over when Hux pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through. “Are you not coming?”

The look he earns in return is answer enough. “Absolutely not. I don’t dirty my hands. That’s why you're here.”

Kylo smirks and raises his eyebrows. “Kiss for good luck?”

“Fuck off, Kylo,” Hux snorts, returning to his phone.

With a laugh Kylo slides out, carefully shutting the door behind him so it doesn’t slam and alert anyone inside to their presence. As he stalks up to the house he glances around the property, casually checking for security cameras. Most rich people are too damn stupid to have anything so useful, and William Scott doesn’t deviate from the norm. The only apparent form of protection is his alarm which does him no good against people like Kylo. 

As he reaches the back door he slides a hand into his pocket, drawing out a pair of black leather gloves and pulling them onto his hands. His heart is starting to pound in his chest. He loves this part, the skilled hand needed to pick a lock, the stealth needed to catch someone off-guard and dispatch of them quickly. School had always been tough for him. Sums and figures and books and science, they all made him feel slow and stupid and he hated every single second that he was forced through that hell. But this, this makes him feel like he’s finally good for something. He unlocks the door easily and smiles at his skill, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder and see if Hux is watching before slipping inside.

The house is just as extravagant on the inside as it is from the outside. The furnishings are rich and most look like they’ve never even been touched. He’s always been weirded out by families like this, the kind that don’t leave any trace of their lives behind. They’re like ghosts, they float around and pass through life without really touching anything. Kylo shakes his head and pads quietly through the house, listening for signs of movement as he looks for his intended target.

He finally detects noise coming from a staircase that must lead into the basement. The noisy chatter of some sports show drift up, he’s thankful the TV is so loud as he descends. The staircase is old, he’s careful to bear his weight thoughtfully so he doesn’t alert the victim to his presence. The sound of the television grows, and soon he’s creeping into a furnished den with a middle-aged balding man seated in the middle.

William Scott doesn’t look like he’ll be much of an opponent. Pity.

As he creeps up behind Kylo debates how to finish the job. He’s always got the razor in his back pocket, and that evil thing inside of him perks up at the idea of spraying blood all over these fancy possessions and fine furniture. Almost as punishment for having so much and not appreciating any of it. But Hux had specifically told him not to make a mess. He doesn’t know if the instruction comes from Snoke itself, so it would be better to obey. Just in case.

Once he’s close enough he slings his arm around Scott’s neck, getting him in a choke hold and applying just enough pressure to show that he means business. The man begins to flail and fight immediately. It’s sort of funny, they never know what they’re getting into when they fight back. Kylo loves a good struggle. He loves bruises and blood and sinking his teeth into tender flesh to tear it apart. Every time someone takes a swing at him he launches into battle, heart racing.

He tightens his grip, resting his cheek on the man’s head and closing his eyes. Focusing on the struggle, the smell of fear that permeates the air. If he can’t cut then choking is the next best thing. Listening to them fight and choke and wheeze, feeling their pulse slow and still under his grasp.

“You shouldn’t have crossed the old man,” Kylo murmurs, serene. “You knew how this would end.”

They say that strangulation is an act of hatred. It takes a while to complete, and a decent amount of strength. You have to hold your victim close and really focus, take in their face and their fear as you complete your task. But Kylo doesn’t hate this man. He just loves the power, the control.

William Scott is starting to slow. His movement become sluggish as he weakens in Kylo’s grasp, and soon he stills all together. Kylo maintains his grip for another moment before he’s satisfied, letting go and watching as the body slumps to the ground.

Carefully, slowly, Kylo presses his fingers to the man’s neck to check for his carotid pulse. Nothing. From there it’s all cleanup and then a hasty retreat.

Hux looks up as Kylo opens the door and slides into his seat, raising an eyebrow and tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket. “That was quick.”

Kylo shrugs, sucking on his lower lip as they pull out of the driveway and make their cautious retreat. “Well. You said no mess. The mess takes the most time, so this was easy.”

“And you’re sure he’s dead?”

Kylo can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He can still feel the man going limp in his arms, still feel the rush of blood to his own head as he lost himself in the brutality. He tugs his gloves off, flexing his fingers. “Are we going back to Snoke?”

Traffic is surprisingly light as they make their way back to the city. Hux flicks on the radio and turns the volume low, the sound of violins filling the car. “No, Snoke will be busy for the rest of the afternoon. He instructed me to drop you off for the evening and to inform you that he’ll be in touch later this week. Your payment will be processed and deposited into your account by the morning.”

Kylo nods, finding himself staring at Hux once more as they drive. He looks calmer than he did barely thirty minutes ago, every now and then humming along to the music as he relaxes into his seat. When he speaks again Kylo barely notices, too busy drinking in the sight of him.

“Where are you staying?”

Oh. Kylo hadn’t gotten that far. “Um. Nowhere yet. Just drop me off anywhere, I’ll find somewhere to crash for the night.”

Hux looks over, lifting an eyebrow. “What do you mean nowhere?”

“I mean nowhere. I spent my cash getting to Chicago, so until I get paid tomorrow I’ll just sleep wherever. It doesn’t matter where you drop me off.” Kylo isn’t ashamed. To feel shame would require a sense of pride, and pride is certainly not something he has experience with. “I’ll work on finding a place tomorrow.”

The face Hux pulls tells Kylo clearly that sleeping on some park bench won’t be acceptable. “That’s a fast way to draw attention to yourself. You’re not going to sleep outside like some transient and shame Snoke’s good name. He wouldn’t have it.”

Kylo sighs, glancing over. “Then what would you suggest, sir?”

Hux bristles at the sarcasm but presses on. He looks like he’s near sick with what he’s about to say. “You can sleep on my couch tonight. Just tonight. And just to sleep. There will be no sex and this certainly isn’t me extending some sort of olive branch or offer of friendship. You may eat, sleep, and shower at my place, and in the morning you’ll find one of your own. Or I’ll find one for you. But you will be out of my apartment.”

The urge to grin is great but Kylo resists. “That’s uh. That’s generous. Thanks.”

“Do you have anything we need to pick up? Where are your belongings?” 

Kylo glances in the back seat, making sure his small bag is still there. “That’s it,” he says, motioning back. “I travel light.”

Hux looks over his shoulder before rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe I let some homeless youth into my bed.”

He pulls off of the highway and into the bustle of city streets, cutting a hasty retreat back to his apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t have a spare room to offer you, it’s been converted into an office.” Hux’s apartment looks vastly different in the light of day. It loses its “prepared hotel room” feel and takes on the look of a model apartment that will never be inhabited, cold and lonely and lacking any real use. Kylo drops his bag by the door, remembering to kick off his shoes before following Hux inside. He feels sort of like a stray dog that’s followed an unwilling new owner home. He certainly doesn’t belong in such a fancy place, he’s ragged and probably filthy and has about three sets of clothing to his name and Hux is beautiful and golden and why on earth is he allowing Kylo to darken his doorway?

Still. Hux told him to follow. Kylo already has a sneaking suspicion that he’ll never be able to turn down an order given from those lips. 

“You shower. You need to wash any evidence away, I assume,’ Hux says, walking back into the foyer to lift Kylo’s bag. “I’ll wash your things. Is there anything in here you don’t wish for me to see?”

Kylo barks out a laugh, folding his arms and watching Hux walk through the kitchen to the laundry room. “You’re letting me stay at your place. I feel like I don’t have much room to keep secrets.”

“Everyone has the right to their secrets,” Hux says with a shrug. “It would be foolish to put everything out there for the world to see. I assume you remember where the shower is?” When Kylo nods he waves him along. “Good. Go wash, I’ll make us something for lunch.”

As Kylo heads for the bathroom he takes one last parting look at Hux. He’s standing in the living room with Kylo’s bag in one hand, his other holding his phone and typing out a message to whomever. Probably Snoke, to tell him the job has been completed without issue. The sun filters in bright through large window in the living room, hitting his hair just right and making it burn gold. Kylo sighs, biting his lip and heading in to wash.

Taking a shower feels like some huge act of mercy from a benevolent god. It’s not that Kylo doesn’t wash. Of course he does, no one would speak to him otherwise. It’s usually hasty though, quick scrubs in truck stop bathrooms or brushing his teeth and washing his hair in a Starbucks sink. A shower, an actual honest to god shower...he could sit under the spray forever and never come out.

It doesn’t hurt that Hux’s shower is the fanciest he’s ever seen. The water comes from a shower head hidden above, the kind that feels like warm, fresh rain falling on your skin during a summer storm. He sighs and turns the water so hot it nearly burns him, letting the heat sink into his muscles. He aches. He’s ached for years.

He hears the bathroom door open, a flair of desire lighting in his stomach as Hux steps into the room. “Care to join me?”

Hux laughs softly, a soft blur on the other side of the frosted-glass shower door. “Good try. I brought you something to wear. You’re taller and broader than I am, but I think I’ve found something that will fit until your clothes are clean. And we can take you shopping.”

Pushing the door open, Kylo pops his head out. His hair is wet and slicked back, water dripping to his skin and then down to the floor. “Shopping?”

“Shopping,” Hux repeats. “You have...an alarmingly small amount of clothing. Your money from Snoke should be in your account soon, once it is we’re going to buy you actual clothing to fill an actual closet.”

Kylo makes a face, retreating into the shower once more. Once he’s clean and the shower head is off he throws the door open, but Hux is already gone.

Beautiful yes, but damn strange as well. He dries off before unfolding the clothes Hux left behind. They’re simple, a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top. Smart thinking on Hux’s part, Kylo is so broad in the shoulders that there’s no way he’d fit into one of Hux’s shirts with sleeves. He pulls the clothes on, giving his hair one more scrub with his towel before he pads out into the apartment.

Hux is in the kitchen dishing what appears to be pasta into two bowls. “Do you cook a lot?” Kylo asks, leaning against the bar that separates the kitchen from the dining area. Hux seems completely at home among the pots and pans and gadgets and knives, moving easily and with confidence.

“I do,” he affirms, slicing a few pieces of some soft looking bread before carrying everything to the table. “Usually only for myself, but I rather enjoy it.”

Kylo sits down, pulling his dish close. Before he can even spear a bit of penne on his fork there’s some fancy, fluffy looking cat standing on the table, eyeing his dish with keen interest. Hux sighs, leaning forward to pat her flank and shoo her away. “Millicent, down,” he scolds. “I don’t know why she’s so terrible about begging, I never feed her from my dish.”

Kylo blinks. “You have a cat.”

“Yes, is that strange?” Hux asks warily. “I hear they’re quite common as house pets.”

“I mean. You just seem sort of fancy. Too fancy to have anything that might shed on your suits or claw at your carpet.”

Hux lifts the fluffy orange thing from the table, holding her close and stroking the soft fur between her ears. “She would never scratch my furniture,” he coos, letting the cat bump her forehead to his before setting her down. “And I brush her every night, so there isn’t much shedding to be done. She’s lovely and prim and clean and nothing like those dreadful dogs that slobber on everything and piss on the carpet.”

The revelation is sort of adorable, really. Kylo fights a grin as he takes a bite. He also discovers that conversation is easy enough between them, they chat about unimportant things like music and classic movies and how Hux likes living in Chicago. When they’re done Kylo takes the dishes, bringing them to the kitchen to clean up.

“Well,” Hux sighs, standing and checking his watch. “I need to get back to the office. I assume you can handle yourself here while I’m gone?” He draws in a breath as Kylo nods. “Good. I’ll give your name to the doorman so you can come and go as you please. There’s a spare key in the table in the foyer, you can take that to let yourself in and out.” He heads towards the door, stopping to turn and address Kylo once more. “Just...do try not to rob me blind and fuck off to god knows where. That would be supremely irritating.”

Kylo raises an eyebrow, pausing in his search to find the right place to put the colander. “I’ll uh. Do my best?”

“Good. Thank you. And that belongs in the cabinet above the sink.” With that Hux is gone, closing and locking the door behind him. 

-

What turns out to be a temporary arrangement stretches on longer than either man planned. Initially they’re just too busy to find Kylo a place of his own. Hux is wrist-deep in numbers and figures trying to negotiate a land acquisition Snoke wants made, and Kylo has a list of names and addresses that he needs to work through while somehow managing to be discreet. It’s rough. With such a list he has to be careful to stage things like accidents, a long line of men choked to death or slaughtered by blade would draw too much attention and soon there would be a manhunt. Kylo doesn’t need a manhunt.

So he’s careful. He plans. A man falls down a flight of stairs. Oh dear, how clumsy of him. A woman has a heart attack while going for her morning jog. Unfortunate she had such a high-stress career. There are cars with faulty brake lines and suicides, and before either man realizes a full month has passed and Kylo is still hanging around.

The strange part is that Hux doesn’t seem to mind. He gets used to Kylo’s presence fairly quickly, and before long he’s treating the man as a roommate instead of an interloper.

“I’m pouring a glass of wine,” he calls from the kitchen one evening, both men dead on their feet from a day of running errands for Snoke. “Would you like one? I have beer as well.”

“Um. I’ll have a beer please.” Kylo is sitting on the couch with his long legs in front of him, clicking his tongue and making kissy noises and trying to get that stupid fussy cat to come to him. Millicent is barely three feet away looking at him like he must be insane to even think she’d come when he calls. He abandons the endeavour when Hux comes over with his drink in hand.

“How did it go today?” Hux asks, sinking into the corner of the couch. He draws his knees up, looking small and sleepy as he sips from his glass.

Kylo shrugs and twists the cap off of his bottle. “It was fine. I was just slinging boxes for him today, moving stuff from the warehouse downtown. Were you able to figure out what happened with that investment account?”

A slow roll of his eyes is his only response for a moment as Hux takes another sip. He swallows and nods. “Yes. It was a mistake on the investment firm’s part, because no one is able to properly hire a good employee anymore. The man I spoke to was a complete idiot and an utter bastard. One of those nationalist, red-blooded types who’s sitting there wondering why this British fairy boy is making so many demands of him, I’m sure.”

Kylo snorts. “You don’t really come across as the fairy boy type.”

“Trust me,” Hux assures him with a small, secret smile. “I know those men, I work with them every day. If you’ve got an accent you’re an absolute ponce. They half expect you to crawl under the table and unzip their trousers while you negotiate, you can see the fear in their eyes.”

It’s true enough. Kylo sees men like that all the time as he passes them downtown, too busy and too important for the rest of the world around him. “I guess we’ll see how pissed Snoke is in a week or so, maybe his name will end up in my hands.”

Hux raises his eyebrows and makes a thoughtful noise. They sit in a companionable silence for a few minutes, watching as Millicent struts over to a cloth mouse and bats it away like it shouldn’t dare occupy her space. She crouches down, wriggling her fluffy rump before pouncing on the thing and rolling about the floor with it.

“How did you end up here, Kylo? Truthfully.”

Caught off guard by the question, Kylo looks over to see Hux staring at him with those intense green eyes. “Why?”

A small smile graces those pale pink lips, followed by a shrug. “Mere curiosity. We’ve been living together for much longer than I’d planned, and I’m alarmed to find that it doesn’t bother me to have you here. You’re rather quiet, a bit mulish when you haven’t gotten your way, and fairly intense when I have the audacity to try and convince you that The Lord of the Rings movies are incredibly tedious and long.”

“That’s because you’re wrong,” Kylo interjects. “They’re amazing.”

Hux laughs. “Still. Other than those few aspects of your character, I barely know anything about you. I’m curious.” A miniscule shift in body weight is apparently enough for Hux to note Kylo’s discomfort. “Only what you’re comfortable telling me, Ren. I’m not going to strong-arm you into giving all your secrets away.”

Kylo nods, for a moment sucking on his lower lip as he thinks. “Um. Okay. I’m from California. I grew up pretty close to the beach and I spent a lot of time there. My mom is pretty important but I don’t really like to talk about her that much. She and my dad divorced when I was seven, he’s uh. He’s a good dad but a pretty terrible husband. But she was sort of terrible too. They’re fine as people on their own but they aren’t great with. You know. Interpersonal relationships.”

“Do you still speak to them?” Hux asks, watching Kylo intently. 

“Nah.” Kylo shrugs. “It just became too much. Dad was always trying to deal with his own guilt by forcing me along on these stupid trips I never wanted to go on. Mom was always trying to dictate where I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to be doing, and who she wanted me to end up as. I just. Needed quiet. It was always so loud there.”

He can remember those days. He hasn’t seen them since he was fourteen, but it’s all clear as day. The shouting, the disappointment in Leia’s eyes as Kylo made some new mistake to let her down with. Being coaxed by Han into cross country road trips that he suspected were a cover for some nefarious dealings. One night he just couldn’t stand it. He packed some clothes and a toothbrush and took off. 

He tells Hux as much, without the benefit of names. “And I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“You left awfully young,” Hux muses.

“Yeah, I guess. What about you, when did you leave home?”

Hux smirks, getting up to refill his own glass and grab Kylo another drink. “Whatever made you think I wasn’t raised here?” he asks, accent a thick drawl. Once he’s back in his seat he rubs his palm over the nape of his neck, thinking. “I believe I was twenty-three. I hated my father so dearly that the only form of escape appeared to be leaving the country.”

“Parents are awful,” Kylo adds sullenly.

“They are,” Hux laughs. “My mother wasn’t too bad. Not much of a mother at all really, but we liked each other well enough. She turned me into the bitchy gossip queen I am today.” He grins at Kylo’s short bark of laughter. “Ah well. To forging your own path,” he says, lifting his glass and grinning as Kylo does the same.

They chat like that for some time, stopping only to turn on the lights when the sun sinks below the cover of the city and the room grows dim. They discuss home towns, old movies, Hux’s sisters, what they always thought they’d be when they grew up versus where they are now. By the time their conversation tapers off it isn’t because they’ve run out of interest, it’s because it’s three in the morning and they both have work to do in just a few hours.

Hux stands, moving to put his glass in the sink and the empty bottles in the recycling bin. He grabs the blanket and pillows from the linen closet to toss to Kylo.

Before he disappears into the hall he looks back over his shoulder, offering a tired smirk. “Thank you for the delightful conversation, Mr. Ren. Goodnight.”

For a long moment Kylo debates following him into the bedroom. He resists.

-

The problem with getting stabbed is hiding the fact from passersby as he makes his way home from his latest job. He was an idiot, too stupid to take up Hux’s offer on a ride so as not to put him out. Now he’s riding the subway in misery, clutching his bag tight to his stomach in hopes that he’s pressing hard enough against the wound to stem bleeding.

It’s not too deep. Nothing that’ll kill him, at least. The bastard unfortunately got one good swing in before Kylo took him down with a well-placed knee to the gut, wrestling the goon’s own knife away before sheathing it in his chest. He’d died gurgling, choking on his own blood. That at least made Kylo feel a bit better.

Stiffly climbing the steps to the sidewalk, he shuffles the rest of the way to Hux’s building and staggers inside. The doorman looks at him warily - just like every day - as he holds the door open. For once Kylo lets himself take the elevator, finally making it to the right floor and staggering down the hall to the apartment that has been his home for nigh on two months now.

“I hope you’re in the mood for steak,” Hux calls from the kitchen. “My iron must be low, I feel like I could eat it raw with my bare hands tonight.” He looks over, eyes going wide as he drops the salad tongs in his hands and rushes to the man in his foyer. “Kylo what the everloving hell?”

Kylo winces, staggering back until he hits the wall. “I decided to get my bellybutton pierced.” 

“Oh, you are not bloody funny,” Hux snarls, putting Kylo’s arm around his shoulders and helping him into the bathroom. “What on earth happened?” Before Kylo even has a chance to answer Hux has him stripped down, standing in his boxers and nothing else.

“Bastard was quick. Now he’s dead,” Kylo grits, wincing as Hux pokes and prods around the wound. “How _do_ you know all this medical shit? You never told me.”

There’s a moment of hurried silence as Hux grabs everything he needs, quickly washing his hands. “I was going to become a surgeon,” he mutters after a long moment. “My father impressed upon me that our family was above such nonsense and that I’d be taking over his company once I finished my schooling. So I dropped out and became an accountant to make him even angrier.”

A bottle of what might be saline is produced, the content tipped onto Kylo’s stomach. He hisses as it mingles with the blood and runs down to soak the waist of his boxers. “And...fuck...how did you end up working for Snoke?”

“Desperation,” Hux says softly, threading a wicked looking, curved needle. “Would you like something to bite?”

“We’ve done this before,” Kylo gasps. “I can handle it.”

Hux nods, pricking the needle into Kylo’s skin. A look of concentration crosses his face as he focuses on the sutures. Kylo can’t resist. He reaches down, cupping Hux’s face in one of his large, bloody hands and swiping his thumb across his cheekbone. Hux looks up with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” 

Kylo bites his lip, shaking his head and letting his hand fall back to his side. “Nothing. Nothing sorry,” he murmurs. “Blood loss.”

Hux seems to swallow hard, shift a bit on his knees, but maybe the blood loss is making Kylo dizzy? He leans back against the counter, bracing his slick crimson hands against the polished, perfect marble. The silence they fall into is not comfortable. It’s fraught with tension as Hux carefully avoids looking up at Kylo, working his lip between even white teeth as he sews him back together. Once the skin is sutured he cleans up the blood with a damp cloth, standing and moving to wash his hands.

“You need to go lay down,” he says softly, watching as the sink turns a watery pink as blood swirls down the drain. “You take my bed tonight, you need to rest comfortably. I’ll be in shortly with food, we’ll work on getting your blood sugar back up.” Before Kylo can speak he brushes past, disappearing into the common area of the apartment.

Kylo takes a shuddering breath, walking with stiff steps into Hux’s bedroom. It’s just like it was the night they first met. Pristine, cold. He draws the duvet back, sliding in and immediately sinking into the ridiculous thread count of the sheets below.

It’s not long before Hux returns, food in hand. He rests a glass of water down before helping Kylo sit and resting the plate in his hands. “Kylo, I need to speak to you about something.”

Kylo looks up, a sort of dread settling into the pit of his stomach. He knew he was staying here on borrowed time, that it was only so long before Hux wanted his space and his privacy back. He nods, bracing himself.

“Look. I know...I know that you see yourself as a blunt instrument, that you go where you’re pointed with teeth bared and guns blazing. But I need you to...to be more careful.” Hux groans as Kylo looks at him with surprise, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not...it’s not anything more than a professional interest in a co-worker. You’re going to get yourself killed and I’ll be the one cleaning up the mess.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but once they do Kylo has to fight a grin. He’s wondered if Hux felt anything for him beside whatever odd sort of friendship they’d built, Hux has walls a mile high made of solid steel. He’s practically unreadable, and Kylo Ren is damn good at reading people. But this...this is everything on the table.

“I...I’ll be careful,” he promises, though it’s not a promise he could possibly endeavour to keep. He’ll say just about anything right now though, to keep Hux close and soothe his troubled soul. “I will. I promise.”

Hux nods and swallows hard. “Good. See that you do. And stop trying to hide your abominable smile.” He stands and shakes his head, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Kylo sits on the floor with his legs spread out in front of him, one hand extended as he wiggles his long fingers. Every now and then he’ll click his tongue softly or purse his lips to make little kissing noises, stopping only to reach up and push locks of hair out of his face. Between his gangly knees is a cloth mouse and a small pile of cat treats. He’s been sitting like this for so long that his back is starting to tense up, but he remains resolute.

“Come on,” he murmurs, eyes narrow. “Come on you stupid cat.”

In the kitchen Hux scoffs, moving around as gets dinner started. “You shouldn’t have said that. She’ll understand it and now she’ll never come to you.”

Millicent sits a few feet away from Kylo’s feet, studying him with a bored expression. She watches him make a fool of himself for a moment longer before turning and strutting away, jumping on the counter in the kitchen and chirping at Hux.

“I know darling,” he coos, shaking his head. “I heard the big scary man call you a mean name. We don’t have to take that from him, do we? Shall I send him to bed without supper?”

“You can send me to your bed,” Kylo calls, smirking. He laughs when it earns him a Look from the man in the kitchen. “I’m kidding. I’ve been very well behaved during our co-habitation so far, I think.”

Hux shakes his head. “Have you? Because I’ve stitched up your gaping wounds far too many times to count now, and we haven’t really been ‘cohabitating’ for that long. Is that your idea of good behavior?”

Kylo grins and lets the conversation drop away. For now. He returns to trying to coax Millicent over, the cat still completely uninterested in anything he has to say or do. A bit later they eat together, and after that Kylo cleans up the kitchen while Hux plays old records of operas that have long, complicated, foreign names. There’s one about a bat that Kylo kind of digs, but more than anything his mind wanders from place to place with no real trajectory.

“We should go out tonight,” he says suddenly, looking up as Hux lifts the needle from a record.

Hux stops, looking over. “What on earth do you have in mind? I’m not much of a fan of modern cinema, so please don’t suggest we go see a film.”

“No, nothing like that,” Kylo snorts. “Let’s just go get a drink somewhere, get out of the house.”

There’s a moment of silence as Hux considers the suggestion. “We could. There’s a little place not too far from here that serves the best scotch I’ve quite frankly ever had.” He looks over as Kylo grins. “I’m sorry, what’s so funny?”

Kylo shrugs, trying not to laugh. “You’re just...insanely pretentious is all.”

“You could always go alone and look like a pathetic alcoholic sitting at the bar nursing a Pabst Blue Ribbon,” Hux suggests, folding his arms.

Kylo laughs, shaking his head. “No! No, I’m sorry. Come on, let’s go.”

-

The bar is a step up from the one they met in, but still nothing too fancy. It seems to be a theme with Hux; he doesn’t care where they are as long as they sell top-shelf scotch. They settle into the bar, ordering their first round and falling into easy conversation.

“So tell me who you were before you came to be...this,” Hux says, waving his hand vaguely at Kylo. When it earns him a strange look he rolls his eyes. “What were you like when you were younger?”

Kylo is vaguely taken aback by the question. They’ve had their fair share of conversations by now, but they never broach the subject of who they Really Are. He shrugs, looking down at the bar and grinning softly. He picks up a paper coaster, attempting to balance it on a razor-thin edge as he speaks. “I was uh. Sullen, I guess.” He looks up when Hux laughs, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I didn’t have any siblings or even friends, really. I spent a lot of time alone. My mom used to travel for work all the time and I was left with my dad.”

He sits back, letting his eyes move around the bar. “I spent a lot of time reading. And when I was old enough to go out on my own I was almost always at the beach.”

“Water does seem to soothe the soul,” Hux muses, nodding as he stares off into middle distance.

“Yeah, it does,’ Kylo says softly, eyes glued to Hux’s face. “What about you?” 

Hux lifts a pale, lovely hand, ordering another round of drinks. He bites his lip as he thinks, eyebrows lifted. “I suppose I was much like I am now. Organized. Hard to impress. My family wasn’t much of a family, more of a business that my father ran to continue his bloodline. My mother was alright, but almost too young to provide any maternal support.” He sips his drink, closing his eyes as the smooth burn slides down his throat. “I was phenomenally close with my sisters. Well, I think I was. What I remember as quite a bit of affection on my part probably came across as the bare minimum.”

Kylo bites his lip. It’s like no one else in the room exists. “I’m sure they knew.”

The strange bubble bursts as Hux forces a laugh and looks away. “Well. Perhaps.” He looks up and glances over Kylo’s shoulder, frowning. “Relax…”

“What? Relax about wh-oh.” Kylo turns, spotting two large looking men coming their way. They’ve got matching smirks that clearly mean they’re looking for trouble, and Kylo realizes darkly that so is he. It’s been too long since he’s last gotten his knuckles bloody. He goes to stand, but Hux puts a firm hand on his shoulder and guides him back into his seat.

“Do not overreact,” he hisses. “Let me handle this.”

Kylo scowls, but he obeys. The moment he sits the men brush past, crowding into Hux’s personal space.

“This your boyfriend?” one grins, eyebrows knit. “You two gays out on a date tonight?”

Hux looks supremely bored already by the exchange. “We’re colleagues, not that it’s any of your business. Do you know what the word ‘colleague’ means or would you like me to dumb it down for you?”

The second man frowns. “You’re a rude little queer, aren’t you?”

It takes everything within Kylo not to step in and start breaking bones. Just as he goes to stand he remembers his promise to Hux after his last scrape, taking a deep breath to try and clear his head. “Hux. Let’s go. I’m not in the mood for this shit and you know I won’t be able to stay out of it if these assholes keep talking.”

“Oooh the boyfriend speaks! And he’s got a mouth on him!” The first man leans in, leering. “You want to take this outside, you weird looking motherfucker?”

“I would fucking love to,” Kylo growls. “But I won’t give you the satisfaction.” He looks up at Hux and jerks his head to the door, sighing with relief when the red-head nods and leads the way. A sort of odd pride wells up within him. He’s never been able to walk away from a fight before, maybe he’s growing as a person.

They walk outside, Hux pulling his jacket back on. “I’ll order us a taxi, you need somewhere quiet to calm down.”

Before Kylo can respond he feels someone shove him forcefully from behind.

He turns to see one of the men from moments before, an ugly look on his face. “The fuck do you want?” is all he can manage before the man takes a wild swing for his face. Ducking quickly, he delivers a rough blow to his gut. As the man staggers back he looks at Hux. “So...do I still not hit him?”

Hux rolls his eyes as if he can’t be bothered to deal with this right now. “Just. Do what you need to so we can go home, but take it easy.” As he turns back to look at their assailant a right hook comes hard out of nowhere, taking Hux hard across his perfect, pale jaw.

Kylo’s vision goes spotty.

Looking back, he’ll never be able to fully remember what happened between that punch and being pulled away a few minutes later. All he’ll have are snatches of conversation, bits of violence and blood. He’ll remember the feel of bones breaking under his fists as he punches the man again and again and again, his face going soft and spongy as everything under his skin breaks and falls apart. He’ll remember the slick, wet gurgling sound of a man choking on his own blood. He’ll remember screaming, and sirens, and being yanked off of the man and dragged down an alley by a hand too above touching someone like him.

He comes to in that same alley, eyes focusing on Hux’s panicked face. “What the fuck are you doing?” he nearly shouts, voice raising an octave in his alarm.

Kylo looks stunned, eyes flickering around their new surroundings. “I...don’t remember? What the fuck?”

Hux looks furious. The bruise on his face is already starting to bloom, and above that his cheeks are flushed in anger. “We need to get home, and I need to make some phone calls to clean up this mess. Don’t say a fucking word to me until I’ve calmed down enough to not shoot you in the fucking knee cap.” 

-

They enter the apartment in an aggressive silence, Hux stalking in with his fists clenched while Kylo sulks in behind him like a scolded child. The stalemate carries on for quite some time as Kylo kicks his shoes off and Hux practically stomps into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. He downs the first, the second, and is halfway through his third before he speaks.

“You are an abominable child.”

Kylo’s head jerks up, a scowl on his face. He’s sunk right into the couch, prodding at the bruise he’d received in the altercation. “What? I just saved your fucking life!”

“I’m not sure at what point in the evening you became convinced that my life needed saving!” Hux shouts, eyes flashing a frigid green. “I’d thought you above such pettiness, and if not that you at least _knew your place_. How disappointing to be proven wrong.”

Kylo shoots to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. There’s an ache somewhere low in his chest, a nameless pain that he can’t seem to define. All he knows is that he wants Hux to drop his offensive, to go back to drinking wine listening to old jazz records and talking about their lives as they have been for the past few months. He glances down, catching Millicent watching their altercation from underneath the coffee table. Kylo wishes he could join her under there. Instead he walks over to join Hux in the kitchen.

He flicks his hair back, moving closer to Hux. Hux immediately steps back, scowling. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re not going to distract me with those big silly eyes of yours.” 

Kylo takes another step forward. He places a hand on either side of Hux’s body, gripping the counter and effectively bracketing him within his arms. “What’s this really about?” he asks, voice low. “Are you really that angry that I got into some stupid barfight? Or are you angry because you’re worried about me and that pisses you off?”

In response Hux narrows his eyes, glaring but not moving an inch.

Kylo smiles, wide and wolfish. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want me. Not just to fuck me, you want me for your own. When you look at me you see something that you want to cherish. Protect. Keep around. It’s why you’ve let me stay for so long.” He bites his lip, tilting his face down so he can look up from under his eyelashes. It’s a gamble. While he can see desire mirrored in the face before him there’s a chance Hux really is disciplined enough to withhold his desires and go on with his life. Without Kylo in it.

“Admit it,” Kylo says softly, somewhere between a challenge and a plea. “Tell me you feel it too.”

A long moment passes, the only movement the twitch of Hux’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. Finally, he speaks. “Please move.”

Kylo frowns, eyebrows knit. “Hux.”

“Get away from me, you smug son of a bitch. I won’t ask you again.”

Well. Everything is already awful, might as well go for broke. Kylo leans in, pressing his mouth to Hux’s in a kiss that tries to say what his words can’t. He feels desperate, greedy, hungry for a taste of lips he hasn’t had in months now. His hands lift, cupping Hux’s cheek with one as the other grips his hip and pulls him close. 

Hux melts against him, bracing his palms against Kylo’s chest. His lips are soft, the kiss slow and achingly sweet as their lips part and their tongues press softly against each other. His body is warm. He’s so warm, Kylo wants to pull him close and never let go, to drown in this feeling forever.

And then thin fingers reach into his hair and pull _hard_ , forcing their mouths apart. 

Kylo yelps, raising his hand to the back of his scalp once Hux lets go. “What the hell?” He steps away, unable to resist the urge to press his bottom lip out in a childish pout. 

The expression on Hux’s face forces him another step back. His expression, usually so refined and carefully schooled, is hideous in his rage. He advances, lips pulled back in a vicious sneer. “Get out.”

“What? Hux I-”

“Get out!” Hux shouts, hands balled into fists. He looks like he’s resisting the urge to strike out and punch Kylo right in the jaw. It’s terrifying. Not because Kylo is afraid of being hit, of course not. He’s been hit plenty of times in his life by much bigger people. What really scares him is the rage in Hux’s face, the finality in his words. This ideal existence they’ve somehow fallen into is crumbling around them, piece by broken piece.

When he goes to open his mouth Hux grabs a saucepot from the stove, whipping it at Kylo and missing him by mere inches. Instead he knocks a wine glass off of the counter. The glass falls and shatters, the tinkling sound of broken crystal breaking the odd silence between them.

Kylo steps back, eyes narrow. “Fine. You know what? Fine. Enjoy the stick up your ass, and living under Snoke’s fucking thumb. Fuck you.”

For a moment he could swear Hux looks like he’s about to cry. Before he can confirm or deny the inkling Kylo is turning on his heel, stalking out the door and slamming it behind him. He can hear something fall off the wall and crash. Good. He hopes it was valuable.

Practically jumping each flight of stairs, he bursts out of the stairwell and stomps through the lobby. The doorman nearly jumps out of his skin but gets the door open, and then Kylo is back out on the street. Where he belongs.

It’s colder than it ought to be. He thinks of California again and realizes with regret that maybe he has no business being in a city like this. Never in his life did Kylo Ren think a place could swallow him up, not even when he was Ben Solo trying desperately to free himself of a family that didn’t understand and a town that was just too small. Now it’s Kylo that’s too small.. Small and stupid and weak.

He’s unsure of where to go, it’s not likely that Hux will call him and beg him to come back so they can kiss and make up. This isn’t a love story and they’re not those sort of people. Good people, who understand their emotions and discuss them like adults before acting. Kylo wonders what it must be like, to be healthy. Sane.

His wandering takes him between two buildings, feet heading in the direction he roughly remembers as leading him to that big fancy pier. He needs to sit by the water, to listen to it crash and lap and ebb and flow. Maybe sitting by the water for a while will give him some clarity, help him decide what to do.

“Hey, you got a cigarette?”

Kylo sighs, stopping. He doesn’t even bother turning around. Why does every shitty mugger in this city ask the same question before trying to take your wallet? 

“No, I don’t have a cigarette. Fuck off.”

“How about the time, you got the time?”

Jesus H. Christ. He doesn’t have the patience for this shit right now. With a few choice words on his tongue (and his hand slipping into his back pocket for his razor blade) he turns around.

He barely has time to register what’s going on before the cloth covers his face, the strange dull scent of chloroform filling his nostrils. As he black out he wonders if Hux will come looking.


	6. Chapter 6

Kylo wakes to the misery of sheer, blinding pain somewhere in the back of his skull. For a long time he can’t seem to remember where he is or what’s happened. All he can focus on is the insistent ache, sharp and ever-present as he tries to piece his thoughts together. He doesn’t know how long he lays there, clenching his teeth and pressing his eyes shut tight and trying to will the pain away. All he knows is that somewhere in the city Hux is still pissed at him and he needs to get himself together so he can find him and apologize. He needs to get his shit together.

A decent length of time passes before he can even open his eyes.

Unfortunately the addition of sight doesn’t add any comfort to his predicament. He’s in a room completely unknown to him. It’s dark and filthy, what appears to be an empty basement with nothing but two uncomfortable looking chairs and a few support pillars to bear the weight of the ceiling. Underneath him he can feel the rough and filthy concrete pressed to his cheek, can feel the grit of dirt between his teeth that must have snuck in while he was writhing in pain. There’s barely any light; just a dim bulb swinging above, casting odd shadows as it arcs back and forth.

With a deep breath and a moan Kylo forces himself to sit. It’s no easy task. His hands are taped behind his back, his ankles bound together. His hair falls into his face in filthy waves. Once he’s up he wriggles back, pressing himself to one of those support beams and letting the rough wood bear his weight.

He can almost hear Hux’s voice in the back of his head, berating him. _You’re careless and rash and it’s going to get you into trouble. It’s going to get all of us into trouble. And I can’t afford your fuckups._

“Aw, look boys. Sleeping beauty is awake.” The voice comes from his left, growing louder with each heavy footfall. Kylo flicks his hair out of his face - earning another sharp twinge of pain in his head - and attempts to look.

There’s a group of them. Three men all dressed in suits, one holding a cell phone and another holding a crowbar. Kylo lifts an eyebrow, setting his jaw as he waits for some sort of explanation. He’s not an idiot, he isn’t going to be the one to speak first. He knows how this is supposed to work because he’s been on the other side of it plenty of times. He flicks his hair back again, and watches.

“You’re quiet,” a man - apparently the leader - says with a sneer. “That’s okay, I’ll talk first.” He crouches, looking Kylo in the eye for a long moment before he speaks again. “This is how it’s going to work. You’ve got information, information that we want. We’re going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer them. Any time you don’t play nice, Jimmy there - say hi Jimmy - is going to hurt you. Understand?”

Kylo sighs, rolls his head from side to side to try and work the tension from his neck.

“See, you’re already being a stubborn ass. Jimmy, show him how serious I am.”

As Jimmy approaches Kylo narrows his eyes, baring his teeth like a wild animal. “You touch me, you die. I just want to make that clear before we get started.”

Jimmy grins and shrugs, twirling the crowbar lazily as he walks over. He’s not particularly large in stature. None of them are, not really. The one who’s been speaking is fairly short and stout, the two lackies tall and willow-thin. Apparently their sizes are deceptive, because Jimmy winds up like Babe Ruth and brings the prybar down hard against his ribs.

For a moment all Kylo can do is gasp, eyes wide. There’s a crack and a sharp pain as something shatters inside of him.

“See? Dead serious, Ren. Now, you’re going to tell us everything you know about Brendol Hux.” He grins as Kylo’s head jerks up. “Oh, now you’re listening. See, we’re not idiots. We know who really runs the show for Snoke. And we want to know everything about him so we know what we’re dealing with.”

Kylo snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t know the first thing about the guy. We work together but he keeps a pretty low profile. You’re talking to the wrong guy.”

Another blow from the crowbar, delivered directly over the spot he’d been hit before. His body jerks as his nerves catch fire. “Fuck! Fuck you!”

“See what happens?” the leader grins. “You lie and we know. I suggest you tell us whatever you can and we’ll let you go and everything will be just fine. One broken rib should be easy enough to fix, right?”

His head spinning, Kylo can barely concentrate on what’s being said to him. It’s not like he hasn’t been in pain before, pain he can normally handle. But a sick realization is setting in of just how much more pain is to come. He’s not going to tell them a fucking thing about Hux. Gun to his head, knife to his throat, half dead, it doesn’t matter. He’s not betraying the one person in the world he’s come to care about, it doesn’t matter that Hux despises him and can’t seem to stand being in the same room as him.

He looks up, smirking. “Fuck you.”

The beatings begin.

-

Kylo can handle the persistent ache in his shoulders. It’s easy enough to ignore the bruises that mottle his skin, and if he tries hard enough he can make it quite some time without thinking about the agonizing pain in his ribs. He’s been hurt worse by worthier people, he’s not about to give these bastards the satisfaction of his fear. He leans back against the wall he’s managed to wriggle over to, closing his eyes and trying to think only of Hux. 

“They tell me you’re being quite the little trooper.” There were no footsteps to warn him of his visitor, not that anything could prepare Kylo for the man who stands before him now. Hux looks as perfect and polished as ever, skin practically glowing like polished ivory in the scant light. He kneels just a few feet away from Kylo, a smirk on his lovely face.

“I knew you’d take some breaking, but I hadn’t assumed just how much.” He’s in a suit Kylo has seen before, that first morning after meeting Snoke and being sent on his first job. It’s a deep, deep black, so deep it looks more like the absence of matter than an actual color. The dress shirt is white, the tie is thin, and his shoes are so polished Kylo can nearly see his reflection in them. Even his hair seems to shine brighter, the hue a soft rose gold rather than the usual red of burning flame. 

Kylo knits his eyebrows together, once more dragging his sandpaper tongue over his lips. “What...are you doing here?”

“ _What are you doing here_?” Hux parrots back, mocking. He kicks Kylo’s foot, laughing as he hisses out a pained breath. “You must know by now. Surely you must. I know you’re a bit thick, but you’re not outright stupid…” He clucks his tongue, eyes going wide in mock surprise at Kylo’s silence. “You don’t? Oh, you poor, sweet little lamb.”

Kylo doesn’t have the energy to listen to this. For the first time ever he just wants to be held and stroked and told that everything is going to be fine. He wants Hux to untie his hands and to pull his broken body close, to stroke blood-streaked hair back from his face and kiss his burning skin. Instead he laughs again, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing just a few feet away.

“Poor dear Kylo. Poor, sweet Ben.” He smirks as Kylo’s head jerks up. “Oh, did you think I don’t know your real name? It’s my job to know things, Ben. It’s my job to be necessary, and then you trounce in and clean up all of that old man’s messes and take my place as heir apparent. I don’t appreciate that, and I’m not above playing a long con to get people out of the way.”

A throbbing headache is rearing up at the base of Kylo’s skull. He closes his eyes, swallowing hard. “Hux just...shut up. Untie me, take me home, yeah? M’fucking tired…”

Cold, cruel laughter is the response he gets in return. “No, Kylo. There’s no home for you. No place for you to be and no one for you to love. This is it for you, this filthy basement and a few broken ribs. Get used to it, because you won’t be coming out of here in one piece.”

Kylo opens one eye, frowning. That’s not right. Hux isn’t overly affectionate and plays his emotions close to his chest, but Kylo’s always been good at reading people and he knows...Hux wouldn’t have been so furious that night, wouldn’t have lashed out like that if he hadn’t been genuinely scared. If he didn’t genuinely care. He cares. Kylo manages to sit up a bit more, a renewed will to get out of this hole dulling the pain in his body. He stares down the Hux before him, the forgery created by his weary mind.

“You’re not real,” he says firmly, glaring daggers at what he assumes is a hallucination.

The False Hux smiles, winking. “Clever boy.”

Kylo blinks. Looks around. He is alone once more.

More time passes, an indeterminate collection of seconds and minutes and hours, slipping by in chunks that Kylo can’t seem to keep track of. There’s no window in the room where he lies, no way of knowing the passage of time. All he can do is note how goddamn thirsty he is, somehow sort of count the hours by the growth of the pounding in his head. Every now and then someone will come down to make sure he’s still alive, to prod at his wounds or taunt him further. Every now and then someone will come down looking for information and spit on him when they find he’s still unwilling to budge. 

The worst moments are when they try and use Hux against him.

“You know he doesn’t give a shit about you, right?” a man sneers in his face, teeth hideous and yellow as his hot breath ghosts over Kylo’s skin. “He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but him. If he were down here he’d sell you out in a heartbeat to save his own skin.”

Kylo snorts, immediately regretting it as his (probably) broken nose twinges. “Fuck off.”

“It’s sort of pathetic, the way you protect him. You new to this business, kid? It’s kill or be killed.” Kylo finds himself being lifted by a hand in his hair, feet scrambling to keep up as he’s dragged across the floor and deposited into a chair. His ribs scream in agony as he tries to find a position that isn’t completely unbearable. Still, he can’t resist the urge to fire back.

“Untie my hands,” he smirks. “We’ll see which of us is which.”

The muscle laughs, sitting in the remaining chair. “Good try, but we need to talk business. Do you know this is the last day they gave me to get the information out of you?”

Kylo yawns, jaw cracking. It’s a common tactic, make the victim think they’re on borrowed time and that said time is running out. Even if it’s true, even if this is his last day to try and save his own skin, he’s not fucking talking. “Well, sorry you have to waste so much time on me. I hope your boss isn’t too pissed that you’re so bad at this.”

An ugly snarl distorts the face across from him. “You think you’re funny?” He stands, once more yanking Kylo up by his hair and delivered three sharp punches to already battered ribs. Kylo shouts out, eyes wide as his lungs seize and struggle for air. When he’s thrust back in the chair he gasps and chokes, trying to regain his breath. The man sits back down. “Listen. We aren’t asking anything special. We just want to know his level of involvement. How important he is to the whole plot. We have a suspicion, and we want you to confirm it.”

Kylo hums, closing his eyes. “I’m going to kill you. You know that, right? You’re going to let your guard down and I’m going to slit your fucking throat.”

“That’ll be a neat trick.” The man stands, batting at the light above and watching as it swings wildly. “Why are you so keen on protecting him, hmm? You two faggots screwing each other?”

It’s such a wild swing that it’s not even worth Kylo getting mad over. He sighs, shaking his head. “So what, you think I’m going to wildly defend that I’m no homo and give him up to prove it? Do you really think I’m that green?”

The man shrugs. “I think you’re a dead man, is what you are.” He shakes his head, walking over and patting Kylo’s cheek in a move so condescending that it enrages Kylo more than anything else he’s done so far. “I tried my best. If you wanna die then don’t let me stop you.” As he walks to the stairs he clicks the light off, leaving Kylo once more in utter darkness. “I hope you had some good times with your little boyfriend. Buck stops here, kiddo.”

A door shuts, and Kylo is left alone.

He’s not really afraid of dying. He’s always known it would end in death, he just wishes he could take a few of the motherfuckers out with him. That’s what really gets him. He’s never felt weak before but now his body lies useless and inflamed in a fucking basement and what good is he, really? His only comfort is the fact that he didn’t run his mouth, that Hux is safe for now. 

Time passes. He drifts in and out of sleep, consciousness a fleeting thing that taunts and teases him before running off once more. 

“Kylo? Wake up, Kylo.”

He groans, shifting on the cold ground and trying to find a better position. One that doesn’t feel like hell itself has ignited within him. “Hmm?”

“Kylo. Wake up. I need to talk to you.”

That voice is back. The sweet voice and polished accent that he could bathe in forever. He opens his eyes, swallowing hard as he turns his head to look up at Hux.

Still beautiful, still radiant. This time his smile is soft and gentle, not the wicked smirk of the hallucination from before. He’s dressed down, casual in a black v-neck and skinny jeans, red Chuck Taylors on his feet. He reaches out to stroke Kylo’s hair, and Kylo swears he can almost feel it.

“You’re not real,” he mutters, still grateful to see Hux one more time. Even if he’s only a figment of Kylo’s imagination.

“You’re right,” Hux says softly, touching his cheek. “I’m not.”

Kylo sighs, shaking his head. This time when he tries to sit up he finds he can’t. It’s all too much. “I’m going to die down here, aren’t I?”

There’s a moment of silence before Hux nods, biting his lip. “Yeah, I think you are,” he murmurs. “But at least you’re dying on your own terms. In some weird way you’ve chosen this.” He stands, sneakers scuffing against the ground as he wanders over to glance up the staircase. “They’ll be coming soon. They’ve got no more use for you, so there’s no point in keeping you down here. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Do what?” Kylo asks, eyebrows knit. “Of course I don’t want to die.”

“Then tell them what they want to hear, Kylo.”

This jolts him. He knows that he’s imagining this, which means something deep in his subconscious mind is making the suggestion. It sickens him that somehow, something inside might deem it fit to betray Hux like this. “You’re joking, right? I’m not telling them a fucking thing, I don’t know why they want to know what they want to know but I’m not giving them ammunition against you.”

Hux walks back over, sliding down the wall to sit next to Kylo’s broken body. “Alright,” he says softly. “Alright. I’ll stay with you, then. As long as I can.”

They settle into silence, Kylo and this benevolent mirage, and wait for death.

He can hear loud noises upstairs, shouting and banging and things thumping together. It makes sense, the gorillas that are going to kill him are psyching themselves up for the slaughter. He does it himself, rages and beats his fists against himself and works into a lather to prepare for brutality. That means it’s coming. Any second now they’re going to thunder down the rickety old staircase and end this whole game. He wonders vaguely how they’ll do it. A quick bullet to the brain? A knife to the gut to cause as much pain as possible as he goes? Will they just beat him to death?

He blinks, swallows. Notices that there are now two Huxes in the room.

“This is a weird sort of hallucination,” he slurs, head spinning. He can barely breath, the pain in his chest is so great.

The new Hux (dressed in a white button up gone crimson with blood, black slacks, shined shoes) kneels before him with a look of rage twisted into his lovely features. “Kylo. Can you hear me?”

All Kylo can think to do is laugh. This new hallucination makes a frustrated noise, head jerking up as thunderous footsteps come racing down the stairs. He stands, cocks the gun Kylo didn’t notice him holding, and braces for impact.

Kylo loses consciousness before he can figure out what’s real and what’s not.


	7. Chapter 7

All Kylo can remember is the pain, the brutality and the agony of worry as he lay there in a pool of his own blood. He’d prayed for death. Not to anyone in particular as he doesn’t really believe in God, but he’d prayed all the same. And then there was blessed, beautiful blackness as he gave in and slipped from consciousness. Voices he could barely distinguish, speaking words he couldn’t remember, the barest hint of conversation at the edge of his awareness. In that blessed release from the torment he’d dreamed of Hux; of some new life, a life so different from the one they have. Had? He isn’t sure if he’s going to live through this but he’s at least going to make sure Hux does.

When he wakes he’s disoriented. He tries to come up swinging.

If the options are either death or telling them what they want to know about Hux then he’s going to go down with their blood on his hands. With a sharp, pained cry he sits up, eyes wild as he looks around for the first motherfucker who comes too close.

“Whoa, calm down, you’re alright.” The voice is soothing, the accent steady. A slim hand reaches out cautiously, threading through his hair to stroke it out of his face before pushing him back to lie down. He blinks hard as he turns his head to look at Hux. 

Kylo swallows, trying to ignore the burning pain in his throat. “Are you alright?” he rasps, hazel eyes flickering over Hux as he tries to assess any potential damage. He only relaxes when he sees the man unhurt, solemn and still as he kneels on the floor next to the couch. Kylo is spread out over the cushions, chest wrapped tight in bandages, the tug and pinch of stitches present over his left eyebrow. He reaches to gingerly touch the wound.

“Don’t touch,” Hux snaps, batting his hand away. It fills Kylo with a weird sort of warmth. That’s Hux when he’s upset. Bitchy. His attitude somehow confirms that he cares. “You’re in a fine state, Ren,” he snorts, still petting and stroking his hair. “They did quite the number on you, didn’t they? When I got there I thought you might be…” He huffs, rolling his eyes skyward as if looking for patience. “Well, nevermind what I thought. You’re home now and back to annoy my waking hours. How do you feel?”

Kylo’s hand reaches out, fingertips brushing tentatively over Hux’s cheek. “Are you still angry with me? About…” He frowns, knitting his eyebrows. “How long have I been gone?”

“A week,” Hux says, and there’s a tremor in his voice that Kylo is polite enough not to bring attention to. “A whole bloody week. And no, I’m not mad at you about our argument. I’ve been worried sick for the past seven days, do you think I’ve had room inside of me to feel anything else?”

The buttery leather of the couch is soft under Kylo’s back, the first soft thing he’s felt in a long damn time. He thinks back to the hard concrete floor underneath him, to his own sticky red blood matted in his hair and soaked into his clothes. This is much nicer. A bit of stretching and wriggling helps him assess the damage done to his body; the left side of his chest is one long, sharp ache, punching the air from his lungs any time he moves. Some of his ribs must be broken. His skin is mottled and tender with bruises, and aside from the stitches on his face he can feel another spot just under his right hip where he’s been sewn up.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, nodding down to his patchwork of bandages and wraps and stitches. Moving his head turns out to be a bad idea. A wave of pain shoots down his spine, followed by nausea that makes his mouth water as he clamps his teeth down tight to stop himself from getting sick.

“Don’t move,” Hux sighs, grabbing a glass of water from the table. He carefully helps Kylo drink before setting it back down. “And yes. Best I could, at least. You’re a bit of a mess, Ren.”

The pain is making him dizzy. Still, it’s a better kind of pain, because Hux is safe and within his sight and everything is going to be fine. Kylo reaches out, lightly touching a bit of hair that hangs in Hux’s face. “Thank you.”

Hux seems to choke on his words for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally he grunts, leaning down to hide his face gingerly against Kylo’s stomach. “Why didn’t you just tell them what they wanted to know, you absolute muppet?” he gasps, voice wrought with emotion. “They could have killed you, don’t you understand that?”

Kylo feels surprisingly calm as he strokes Hux’s hair. “And if I’d told them they would have killed you.’

“And?” Hux’s head jerks up as he glares up at Kylo. “Why does that matter? Your sense of self-preservation is absolute shit, you know that? It’s impossibly stupid to worry about me when your own life is on the line.” There’s a flash of anger in his eyes, a pain that is almost unheard of for someone as cool and collected as he is.

For a moment Kylo can only stare, taken by the way Hux’s eyes drink him in like he’s been gone for a year instead of a week. He wonders absently if Hux cried over him while he was gone. It’s a novel thought; he can’t think of anyone who might have wept for him in the past. Maybe his parents weeping for their lost son, but they’ve never really counted. This is genuine, Kylo can see it in the helpless rage Hux feels at the mere idea of him dying. Something stirs in his stomach. It’s not nausea or fear or pain or anything like that. It’s a weird sort of warmth that radiates up into his chest and makes his heart feel so full that he might actually choke on it.

“I love you,” he spits out, stunned by his own admission. “That’s why I didn’t tell them. Because I love you.”

Hux stares for a moment, clearly taken aback by Kylo’s words. A long moment passes before he shudders, face crumpling in agony as he once more hides his eyes against Kylo’s stomach. “Fuck you,” he practically sobs, shuddering with emotion. “You fucking _idiot_ , fuck you.”

-

Recovery is a brutal uphill climb. He’s stuck on the couch for weeks, flipping through Hux’s insane cable package or browsing online when he’s not sleeping off whatever painkillers Hux provides for him. Bit by bit that damn cat starts to warm up to him. She seems to like the fact that he can’t move or shout or do anything too quickly. She wanders over one afternoon while he’s eating, sniffing curiously at his sandwich and flicking her tail with interest until he shoos her away. By the end of the week she’s curled on his chest and sleeping happily whenever he does, the two of them spending their days napping together as his body knits itself back together.

Hux walks in, snorting at the sight as he rests his briefcase on the table. “You're both disgusting,” he says, walking into the bedroom to change before returning to dote on Kylo for the rest of the evening. Still, he looks pretty damn pleased when that night Kylo is able to lift himself off of the couch for the first time in a week and take a few stiff steps around the apartment. He rewards him with a kiss so sweet and tender that Kylo is pretty sure he could do backflips, if asked.

There’s an odd bond developing between them. They’ve always had a...thing, but now it’s becoming so normal. Domestic. To the point where Hux shoots up in the middle of the night like he’s had a terrible nightmare and gasps, “Oh my God we’re in a relationship.”

Kylo snorts and attempts to roll over so he can go back to sleep. When the ache in his ribs prevents it he instead directs his best half-conscious glare at Hux. “Glad you caught up. Go the fuck to sleep.” While it’s too dark to see he can still feel the full force of Hux’s glare on him. He grins. “Don’t look so freaked out. C’mere. Go back to sleep. You can have a meltdown in the morning.” 

He raises his arm, humming his approval as Hux tucks up against his side and rests his cheek carefully on Kylo’s shoulder. “Of all the suitors I’ve had in my life, you’re the one I choose,” he says disdainfully.

“That’s pretty dumb of you,” Kylo agrees, kissing his forehead. They fall back asleep tangled together. It’s not the best idea for a man recovering from massive bodily harm, but it’s definitely worth it.

Three weeks pass, and then Snoke pays him a visit.

He doesn’t expect the old man to drop by. From Hux’s report he’s been waiting patiently for Kylo’s body to heal, keeping a list of names in a little black book to be given to Kylo upon return and then immediately burned once he’s read them. So it’s a shock to see him sitting at their dining table, a cup of coffee steaming before him as Hux moves about the kitchen.

“Sir,” he says slowly, suddenly wishing he were in more than a towel.

Snoke looks over, an amused smile on his scarred and time-worn face. “Go get dressed, boy. We’ll talk after.”

Kylo nods and mutters a quick thank you before rushing into the room as fast as his aching bones will carry him. He dresses simply; a pair of jeans and a white undershirt, a black hoodie pulled on to keep him warm. He barely brushes his hair out of his face before he’s joining Hux and Snoke for dinner.

“Tell me,” Snoke says, folding his hands in his lap and studying Kylo closely. “How are you feeling? Is it easier to be up on your feet now? Brendol told me you had quite the hard time moving around at first.”

Kylo nods, keeping his eyes down as he fidgets with his water glass. “It was rough,” he agrees. “But now that I can walk I feel like I’m getting better faster.” He looks up, biting his lip. “How did you know where I was, sir? How did you find me?”

A vague look of surprise crosses Snoke’s face, which he quickly schools into an impassive look. “You have Brendol to thank for that. He turned the whole city upside down looking for you.” He shoots a glance at Hux, a glance that makes Kylo slightly anxious. It’s a look that says, _you’re on borrowed time, boy_. “He tracked you down and went in for you on his own. For a man who hates to get his hands dirty…”

Hux sets his wine glass down, raising his eyebrow. “Well then. Who’s hungry?”

Dinner is fancy despite the close quarters and Kylo’s inability to sit upright for too long or hold too much of a conversation once his latest round of painkillers sets in. He spends most of the evening listening to Snoke and Hux talk business and exchange superficial pleasantries. It’s all so far above him, not only the energy required but the topics of conversation themselves. Hux is clearly in his element. He’s graceful and at ease as he discusses sums and figures and plans for the business, and Kylo (in his drugged state) has to keep reminding himself not to reach over and touch. Not in front of Snoke.

Finally the old man leaves and they’re free to relax. Hux shoos Kylo away when he tries to help clean the kitchen, banishing him to the couch for more rest. As he cleans the dishes and wipes down the counters he wears a worried look that Kylo can’t ignore.

“What is it?” he asked, stiffly getting to his feet and padding into the kitchen. Hux sighs, wrapping his arms lightly around Kylo’s waist and hiding his face against his broad chest.

Hux is silent for a moment before he speaks, clearly miserable. “Would you believe me if I told you that Snoke staged this whole thing? You being taken, beaten to try and get information on me?”

Kylo looks down like he’s insane. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t think so,” Hux sighs, kissing Kylo’s shoulder. “Go lay back down.”

They don’t discuss it again.

Life goes on. His bones and muscles and skin heal. And finally, one day, he wakes up and he’s not in pain.

Hux looks up from the coffee pot as Kylo walks out, offering a “good morning” smirk. “You look like you’re feeling bett-Jesus!” He finds himself uprooted and upside down, slung over Kylo’s shoulder and carried back into the bedroom. “I guess you are feeling better, you ridiculous show off.”

“It has been a long goddamn time,” Kylo snorts, pawing at Hux’s ass as he leans down to kiss and bite at his neck. His ribs feel fine - great actually, he takes a deep breath and marvels at how _good_ it feels. No pain, no pinch, no discomfort. He bites his lip, working on getting Hux naked. “I hope you have nowhere to be.”

Hux rolls his eyes, lifting his arms as Kylo pulls off his simple black v-neck. “You got lucky. For once I have no plans. Although I don’t intend on laying in bed all day.”

A hand works into his hair, tightening in the copper locks and yanking back as Kylo meets his gaze. “If you even try to leave this bedroom I’ll tie you down and fuck you stupid,” he growls. “That is your only warning.

Hux swallows, eyes wide. “Oh. Alright then.” 

Satisfied, Kylo finishes undressing Hux before starting on his own clothes. He’d like to slow down, take his time, but it’s been months of tension. Months of wanting to follow Hux into his bedroom, to press him into the mattress and steal kiss after kiss as they explore each other’s bodies with the same curiosity they had that very first night. To follow him into the bath, rut against him as water and bubbles splash over the sides of the tub. All he can focus on right now is the tight heat of Hux’s body, how good he sounds as his breath speeds up.

Hux presses his fingertips to Kylo’s lips, smirking when they part easily. He hooks the tips behind the bottom row of Kylo’s teeth, dragging him close. “Hungry?” Kylo moans and nods, closing his lips around the digits and sucking. The challenge falls from Hux’s expression, replaced by a ravenous need. “Then you better get me on that bed and fuck me.”

Kylo doesn’t need to be told twice. He bites at Hux’s fingers once more before letting them fall from his lips, hands grasping firmly at slim hips as he guides Hux back to the bed. Hux falls to sit on the edge, spreading his knees as Kylo kneels between them. “This is a good angle for you.”

Kylo laughs, looking up from under his eyelashes. “I was just thinking the same about you.” He lifts his hand to Hux’s cock, tracing a finger along the underside and grinning as Hux tenses under his touch. He’s perfect. Long and thin, with a flushed head, Kylo can’t resist the urge to lean in and flick his tongue over the tip. Above him Hux gasps, back arching into the sensation.

“You’ve got a wicked little tongue,” he purrs, voice low in his throat. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined fucking that mouth of yours since the first time we were together.”

Arching an eyebrow, Kylo looks up from his position on the floor. “No time like the present.”

Hux grins. “No. There isn’t.” He shifts more towards the edge of the mattress, taking his length in hand and giving a few teasing strokes. “Open your mouth, _darling_. Tongue out.”

Kylo obeys, his own erection thick and aching between his thighs. He moans as Hux rubs the head of his cock teasingly over his tongue before drawing back a bit, stroking a few more times, and pressing in. For a moment Kylo has to remind himself how to breathe around such an intrusion. Hux wastes no time thrusting as deep as he can, moaning as Kylo gags and tries to swallow around him.

“Ah-ah, shhh,” he coos, stroking a hand through dark hair. “You can do it, just relax.”

Once, not too long ago, Kylo realized that he’d never be able to disobey a command from Hux. The fact remains. He closes his eyes and forces the tension to ease out of his body muscle by muscle, until all he can do is whimper and groan and run his tongue along the shaft.

“G-good,” Hux breathes, a slight hitch in his breath. “Good boy.”

This time Kylo well and truly moans. Large hands come up to grab at Hux’s thighs, pulling at him in an attempt to encourage his thrusts. Hux must get the message. He grabs Kylo’s hair, starting a languid roll of his hips that draws him in again and again and Kylo is lost to the sensation, the heady taste of salt and skin as Hux uses his mouth as he sees fit. 

Kylo can’t say how long he’s on his knees, letting Hux guide him by his hair as he bobs over his cock. Finally Hux pulls out, a thin line of precome trailing from his tip to Kylo’s tongue. “Get up here and fuck me,” he growls, leaning down to steal a frenzied kiss from parted lips.

Kylo barely remembers to snatch his wallet from his jeans, grabbing a condom as Hux retrieves the lube. Soon they’re tangled together in bed, kissing and touching and rutting together with the pent up need born of two months of tension. Hux takes the foil packet, tearing it open and rolling the condom down Kylo’s length. 

“I’d forgotten how big you are,” he breathes, eyes wide.

Leaning in, Kylo nips sharply at his earlobe. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, no one asked for gentle,” Hux scoffs. He kisses Kylo once more before getting on his knees, grinning as he drops his chest the the bed and arches his back invitingly. “Well?”

For a brief moment Kylo thinks he might die of heart failure. He uncaps the lube, drizzling the slick over his fingers and coating them well before pressing two in. Hux’s breath hitches in his chest, followed by a sharp gasp and a low moan. “Fuck why did we wait this long?”

Kylo looks up, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Shh shut up, shut up and fuck me,” Hux whines, pressing back onto his fingers. Kylo ignores him just long enough to make sure he’s ready, withdrawing his fingers and coating his length before kneeling between Hux’s freckled calves. He doesn’t bother asking if Hux is ready, Kylo knows he is. He holds his own breath as he pushes in, doing everything he can to keep his eyes open and enjoy the sight before him.

Hux arches his back once more, hands clutching the sheets as he tries not to squirm and force himself onto Kylo’s dick. His hair has fallen out of its usual careful style, his shoulders and back flushed and splotchy under the explosion of freckles that cover his form. Kylo takes it all in, intending to remember it forever. To catalogue it away for the next time he’s bruised and beaten and needs something to hold onto.

“Bloody...fucking… _move_ ,” Hux gasps, throwing a furious look over his shoulder.

Kylo starts slow, shifting his hips back an inch or so before pressing back in. Despite Hux’s demands otherwise, it’s necessary; it’s been a while and he doesn’t want to ruin their first time back together by getting ahead of himself. His fingertips leave indents in the skin where they grip Hux’s waist and when he lets go there are white prints pressed into the pink skin. 

“S’that good?” he asks, voice hoarse and low. His hair falls into his face but he can’t be bothered to lift a hand and brush it away.

Hux’s thin body heaves with each breath, small noises muffled by the pillow below him. Kylo can’t help the satisfaction he feels at seeing such a composed man so thoroughly ruined below him. He pulls out nearly all the way, dragging Hux back onto his cock as his hips snap forward. He must hit the right spot because Hux lifts his head, moaning out a soft “oh!” and curling his toes.

“Do you know how often I thought about this?” Kylo growls. “Fucking you, hearing you make all the sounds you made the first time we did this? I was going fucking crazy, Hux.” He reaches around, taking Hux’s length in hand and stroking firmly. “And you were always just fucking out of reach. I’ve never been so frustrated in my entire fucking life.”

Hux trembles as he pushes up onto all fours, giving himself better purchase to thrust back onto Kylo. “I-in my defense...ah! In my defense you were a homeless serial killer.”

Leaning forward, Kylo digs his uneven white teeth into the nape of Hux’s neck. “Shut the fuck up.” He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust, sending Hux sprawling back onto the mattress. 

“Kylo,” Hux chokes, the last syllable turning into a pathetic moan. “I need to come, make me come, _please_...”

Kylo would love to drag it out, to get his revenge for having to wait so long for this. It’s too much though, Hux is hot and tight and asking so nicely, he can’t hold back. Thumbing across the tip of Hux’s leaking cock, he tilts his hips to aim directly for Hux’s sweet spot as he snaps his hips forward with brutal strength. It’s not long before Hux is crying out through his release, shivering from head to toe as he spills into Kylo’s hand. Kylo is chasing his own climax when Hux weakly brings his hand up, licking his own come from long fingers and a broad palm.

Kylo’s climax hits him like a crowbar to the ribs. He gasps and chokes out Hux’s name, hips snapping forward a few more times as he spills into the condom. 

They collapse into a filthy pile of sweaty limbs, panting desperately as they regain their senses.

A few minutes later Hux raises trembling hands, clapping slowly. Kylo laughs and pulls him close, ignoring how disgusting they both are as he kisses his hair. “That was an excellent way to spend a day.”

“I’ll admit that just this once you were right,” Hux says breathlessly. He reaches up, brushing Kylo’s damp hair out of his eyes. “And to be quite honest it’s good to see you feeling better. I was...worried.”

Kylo looks down, lips curving into a smirk. “Because you love me.” He’s been trying to get Hux to say it ever since his own hasty admission his first day back. Hux is always one step ahead of him though, always ready to change the subject and refusing to let himself be trapped into saying it. “Just admit it, I can tell.”

“As if your skills of perception are any good,” Hux says, rolling his glass-green eyes. “You’re very needy, do you know this?”

Kylo barks out a laugh, rolling them so he’s on top with Hux pinned beneath him. “Say it.” He takes Hux’s slim wrists in his hands, pinning them above him on the mattress as he rolls his hips down.

Hux immediately gasps, groaning and laughing. “No more, I will honestly die if I come one more time today.”

“Then maybe you should say it and I’ll have mercy,” Kylo smirks, rocking down with slow, sticky rolls of his hips. Despite Hux’s protests it isn’t long before they’re both hard again, flushed and pressed together as their mouths meet in slow kisses as steady and sweet as the tide. Kylo never relents his grip on Hux, tight enough to bruise as he holds him in place.

“Say it,” he purrs. “Or I’ll tease you until you’re just there, and then leave you to suffer.”

Hux licks his lips, eyes heavy lidded as he meets Kylo’s gaze. “Why are you so desperate to hear it?”

The question catches Kylo by surprise, because he honestly hadn’t considered it. Why _does_ he care so much? It’s not as if he’s built a life upon needing the affection and approval of others. Hux is different though. Hux matters. He licks his lips, drawing a slow breath. “Because I love you. And I need to know that you love me too.”

Hux is silent, studying Kylo’s face carefully as if searching for some sign that this is all a clever and cruel trick. He finally lets out a shaking breath, closing his eyes. “Fine. I...love you. Too.” He makes a muffled noise of surprise as Kylo catches him in a desperate kiss, once again rocking against him. It’s not long before they both hit their climax once more, crying out and clinging to each other and wondering just how they got into this mess.

Finally they make it into the shower, lazily kissing and touching and cleaning each other off as the warm water cascades over them. Kylo threads his fingers through Hux’s hair, working conditioner through and watching mesmerized as the strands turn from bright red to a deeper auburn under the water.

“Do you really think Snoke was behind this?” he asks, eyes flickering down to Hux’s blissed out face. For his part Hux only sighs, shaking his head.

“I don’t know for sure,” he murmurs. “But I bet we’ll find out.”

Kylo wakes up the next morning to the warm, wonderful weight of Hux laying on his chest. He opens his eyes to see Hux smiling down at him, a knowing sparkle in his eyes as he leans down and steals a kiss. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs, smirking against Kylo’s lips. “I just received a phone call. There’s a job waiting for you just outside of the city.”

Kylo hums thoughtfully, lifting his arms to stretch the stiffness of sleep out of his muscles. When he brings his arms down he wraps them tight around Hux’s waist, flipping them over and burying his face in that pale, elegant neck. “What time?”

Hux grins, tilting his head to the side as Kylo kisses down to his shoulder. “Two hours. You need to be there at eleven a.m. precisely.” He still smells like sex, like _Kylo_. There are bite marks all over his chest from the night before, and if Kylo were a betting man he’d put money down that Hux is still loose and slick and ready to be fucked again.

With a thoughtful hum he lifts his head, peering across the room to the clock on the wall. It’s nine-fifteen. He needs to shower, scrub his skin pink, make sure his hair is pulled back and that he’s dressed and ready to go by ten. With that in mind he leans down, biting at Hux’s bottom lip. “Just enough time,” he murmurs around the tender flesh, grinning as Hux laughs and reaches for his phone to tell Snoke that Kylo is on his way. He snatches up the device first, tossing it across the room.

They’ve got time. It may be borrowed, and it may not last, but for now the bed is warm and Hux is smiling underneath him.

They’ve got time.

**Author's Note:**

> I had quite a few awesome betas for this one! Thanks to [Ocktorok](http://ocktorok.tumblr.com) who keeps a running list of words I overuse, [hydrajen](http://hydrajen.tumblr.com) who was my Chicago consultant and the best at picking out typos, and [prittleprince](http://prittleprince.tumblr.com) who is my angel of a partner and is always willing to look over what I write and cheer me on. You guys are the best.
> 
> This is part of a series, make sure you click the series link to check out Mercy Killers (the fic that started this series and a peek at the boys a bit down the line) and Misericorde (which is just total smut). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


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